The much ignored library in Grimmauld Place was her sanctuary. The walls were ragged and showed the signs of neglect that the entire dwelling had succumbed to during Sirius' absence. She appreciated that the Wizarding World didn't place much weight on appearances, well, mostly.
Unlike the Hogwarts library this space was empty, cosy and completely unsupervised. Hermione could vividly picture Madam Pince's disapproving glower at some of the titles stocked in Walburga Black's collection.
There was everything one could think of; Dark Arts, deplorable Potion recipes, chilling Charms incantations and even pornographic Divination guides.
Divination was a fool's game, she knew that, but the current text she had in hand was oddly engrossing.
'Virgo women, being an earth sign, are sensual by their very nature. These witches will want to know everything about a lover's body and strive to please with an eagerness no other sign of the Zodiac possesses.'
Hermione scoffed and turned the page aggressively. Well who wouldn't strive to please a lover? What even would be the point of love-making without attempting to make it as pleasurable as possible?
That wasn't in any way relevant to her date of birth, what a preposterous claim.
Almost as preposterous as the use of intercourse in 'studies' of Divination.
'With the right partner, a Virgo woman can engage in Sex Magic so powerful, she could dominate in anything she puts her hand to. Of course, the Virgo woman is often coy and unassuming. Making it difficult finding a Wizard to partake in such activities.'
"Ridiculous," Hermione muttered haughtily to the empty library.
In her experience getting a man into bed required little to no effort whatsoever. Another flaw cooked up by the Divination guide. She was certain that she could knock on any door in the house tonight and engage in sexual relations if she so pleased.
That wasn't arrogance on her part, she was nothing special to look at; her hair dominated her appearance and it was less than appealing.
But boys,— men she supposed; although boys seemed more apt, were easy.
Perhaps living with several males had skewed her image of them, but she felt a tell-tale prickling on her skin when the other inhabitants looked at her.
She'd never been one to care about her appearance, but their constant attention made her very self-conscious and aware.
Females were a rare sight in Grimmauld Place. Hermione on occasion would be joined by Mrs Weasley, Tonks or Ginny.
But their presence was few and far between. The house usually consisted of; Harry, Ron, Sirius, Lupin and Hermione. Occasionally Professor Snape would utilise a spare room but he mostly kept to himself.
Breakfast was fine. Rarely would anyone but Lupin rise as early as she and he was the least of her worries. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to drink her down hungrily at every occasion. He often found ways to touch her, innocently enough it seemed but Hermione could see the hunger on his face.
She'd thought about it, of course. Who wouldn't? Sirius was handsome and charismatic, and he clearly wanted to run his hands over her.
'Sexual energy is life energy. Its nature is to create and to craft.'
Harry's uncle was far from what this guide was hinting at. Sure, if she wanted to be fucked unceremoniously against an ancient banister in his childhood home he would undoubtedly be the best candidate. But Hermione knew that she wanted something more. She'd all but given up hope on romance, or even sex, it just didn't seem like a priority.
With the war still raging, what she naturally wanted were answers. That was why she had scoured every dark, dangerous and inappropriate tome in this ancient, musty room.
'Before engaging in sex, decide on an objective you intend to bring about. Choose only one objective at a time, so you can direct your undivided attention toward it. It can be difficult to focus our mind on an intention while in the throes of passion.'
If there was a way to predict Harry's successful defeat of Lord Voldemort then Hermione would do her utmost in discovering it. Even if that called for reading this ridiculous book.
This ridiculous book that had her riveted and if she was completely honest, a little aroused.
Some of the guide was overly explicit in its descriptions, she couldn't quite understand why but it made for interesting reading.
The bookworm in her refused to heed her own warning; this was pointless foolishness. The guide was nothing more than a school-girl fantasy and soft-core pornography. Find a suitable wizard, successfully seduce him and all your abolitions will surface successfully.
What constituted a 'suitable wizard', she wondered?
The guide of course listed suitable candidates, based on their birth date and nothing else that is her opinion was deranged.
According to the author— clearly a raging lunatic- Sirius was a viable option, him being a Scorpio. But, according to Cressida Crone, a Capricorn man was her ultimate goal.
'They will understand one another on each and every step in life and magically connect their souls into one.'
Well, she didn't think she even knew a Capricorn man, let alone successfully find one and convince him into her bed.
Before reading the guide she honestly couldn't have guessed the correct birth date range for a Capricorn or even a Virgo.
'The Virgo witch will love dating a Capricorn wizard and both will enjoy immediate and powerful attraction along with an enduring mental connection.'
"'An enduring mental connection'," Hermione scoffed again. "Chance would be a fine thing."
She loved her boys; Harry and Ron very dearly, she loved Remus and Sirius too but the chance of a mental connection of any kind seemed unlikely.
Remus was the most frustrating in that respect, she knew that he was more than capable of challenging her mentally but he was the most standoffish with her. She rarely felt any sexual tension radiating between them and when she did it was usually her own neglected libido and almost-forgotten childhood crush. Or occasionally on the night before a full-moon she would notice his gaze lingering, she had never been brave enough to test this theory.
Her sexual experience had been limited to a short-lived fling with Ron. A fling in which they'd both quickly realized that the attraction building between them for years was more fizzle than sizzle.
They'd made use of their freedom from parents and teachers in Grimmauld Place, but the sex had been stilted and awkward. Thankfully they'd both agreed it was a lost cause but not to let it affect their friendship.
Hermione was so engrossed in the smutty rubbish that she failed to hear the library door creak open and close again.
With her shoeless feet tucked under her bum and her face resting firmly on her left up palm she was miles away. The fire in the grate was burning low, just enough to permeate through the biting chill of December in Grimmauld Place.
Walburga Black could have breached the frame of her portrait and swept into the room shouting slurs and Hermione still may not have noticed.
So when a terrifyingly familiar, cold and sneering voice came startlingly close to her ear she lept from her seat with a small scream.
"What are you reading, Miss Granger?" Snape's cold drawl was sinfully close, causing a small shiver to roll down her spine.
"Nothing sir," she replied too quickly.
Snape raised a brow and too late Hermione noted the book had fallen from her lap and lay open on the couch next to her.
Her face flushed at the moving image depicted on the open page. A willing witch was riding a wizard with such passion they were almost a blur on the paper.
There was no mistaking the content, Hermione could almost hear the grunts and moans of the illustrated couple.
"R-research," she muttered and reached for the book. But Snape was too quick, he had the book snatched up before she could lay her hand on it.
Her professor's brow arched silently as his eyes flickered from the moving image and back to Hermione's blushing face.
"'Love-making between these two signs can ignite bonds so powerful that one or both partners may succeed in unlocking their inner-eye'," he read aloud in that deep, reverberating voice.
"Really Miss Granger? Divination? Sex Magic?"
Hermione squirmed under Snape's intense gaze, she'd never felt such shame and embarrassment in her whole life and willed the couch to swallow her whole.
As the minutes ticked by, the deafening silence was starting to grate her nerves making her feel agitated.
"I,— I just thought," she faltered, dropping her eyes to her lap, and twisting her hands together anxiously. "Well, I don't know what I thought, sir."
"Clearly," he snarled.
Hermione's anger flared, burning hotly under the surface of her already flaming face.
"Surely seeking knowledge during an ongoing war is a useful exercise," she said, frowning in an attempt to maintain her temper.
"Seeking knowledge? In the Black family library? Reading what can only be described as pornographic material, in the middle of the night, alone?"
Hermione huffed indignantly at the insinuation. What did he think she had been doing? Masterbating to Divination? The very thought hurt her academic sensibilities. She knew that Professor Snape didn't rate her as a student, but the idea that he thought of her as nothing more than some horny teenager was mortifying.
"Well, I have exhausted most of the more academic titles in here," she stated. "Not that there are very many, and as you may know, I'm not permitted to leave the house."
"Oh how awful," he sneered sarcastically, lip curling in disgust. "How awful it must be, to be protected so thoroughly. How awful Miss Granger, to have so many people who care for your well-being."
"Why must you insist on twisting my words? I'm very grateful for all the efforts put into our safety. I was merely explaining why I was reading that," she said pointing to the book still lying open in his hand.
He quirked a brow again and smirked silently at her as he went to turn the page.
"Don't," she pleaded. Already mortified at the situation, the last thing she needed was further taunting.
"'Their sex life can turn phenomenal when they are in sync with each other, for they can show their in-depth emotions during the act, nothing more than magical and fulfilling to the core!'"
A dark sardonic chuckle pierced the silent room.
"Really Miss Granger? You sought to help Potter defeat the Dark Lord with what? Your libido?"
A small ornate clock above the fireplace chimed for midnight. Temporarily distracting Snape's attention from her and Hermione took the opportunity to reach for the book.
The strangest thing happened when her fingers touched the aged page. A crackling jolt of magic travelled along the spine of the book and split into two, both of which collided with Hermione and Snape's hands simultaneously.
Hermione watched as the small tendril of magic twisted along her finger and disappeared under her shirt. A blooming sensation of warmth pooled in her centre causing a small gasp to escape her lips.
Her professor had his eyes fixed downwards, staring at the large book and where her hand sat on the page.
"What have you done?" he asked, still not looking at her.
"N-nothing sir, I just,—" she trailed off, her core throbbing rhythmically and distracting her thoughts.
She'd never really looked at Professor Snape at such close proximity before. It couldn't be said that he was classically handsome, but there was something appealing there all the same.
His dark eyes were still cast down, hooded, but she could see the barest rim of his iris, so dark they camouflaged his pupils.
Then he closed his eyes completely, allowing dark lashes to smudge his sallow complexion.
Without the distraction of his too-dark eyes she focused on the rest of his features.
His face was thin, but with a very strong bone structure. Hermione longed to run her finger along his jawline, she could see the beginnings of some dark stubble there too.
"What's happening?" she asked breathlessly, aware that these thoughts were coming from somewhere other than her own subconscious.
"You seem to have activated a charm," he replied, sounding strained.
His voice really was hypnotic, but she'd always known that. Even from first year, a single sentence had her captivated.
Hermione's body was humming and throbbing relentlessly. She focused on her breathing and tried to refocus her thoughts again.
"What charm?" she asked timidly, she feared that she already knew the answer.
"I don't know but judging by the subject matter, I think we can assume it to be sexual in nature."
Hermione whimpered softly as he enunciated the word; sexual. The word had never held much weight for her, just another one in her vocabulary but rolling from his famously acidic tongue it sounded wonderfully obscene.
Catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an effort to quell any more unwanted sounds Hermione cast her eyes to her professor's lips.
She could feel heat rising in her face again, different this time, not shame-filled.
Why wouldn't he look at her? She was still studying his bold features and watching his mouth twitch involuntarily but not once had he looked into her face.
"Sir?" she asked tentatively. A small grunt came from Professor Snape which she took as an affirmative to continue on.
"Why won't you look at me?"
Hermione's eyes widened in shock at her own question, uncertain where it had come from.
Still his eyes remained downward, studying the page like it might hold the answers to this Charm which was currently ruining Hermione's knickers.
Neither one had yet to remove their hands from their place upon the page.
"Even if I wanted to look at you Miss Granger," he hissed. "I do not want to further encourage the strength of the Charm, and since we have no information on how to successfully end it, I'd rather not take any unnecessary risks."
Hermione could hear her breaths coming fast and heavy, she squeezed her thighs together in an effort to create some friction. She was still kneeling on the couch while he stood behind it and she couldn't stop herself staring at her dour professor.
Some fine strands of black hair hung down, slightly restricting her view of him and every part of her wanted to reach out and brush it back from his face.
"Should we let go?" She knew that she meant 'let go of the book' but her tone told a different story.
"No! Do not move until I think of a way to undo this," he snarled. She could hear the doubt in his voice, he clearly couldn't think clearly, that much was obvious. Her own thoughts were swirling with desire and need.
His hand was so close, just inches away and it looked so inviting, calling out to be touched and to touch.
"Finite incantatem" Snape said confidently. Hermione whimpered again at the close proximity of his magic washing over her skin.
She tried to contain her smile when the spell did nothing but further fuel her lust.
She's had enough, she couldn't control herself any longer, she didn't want to.
Gathering her Gryffindor courage she slipped her hand quickly down the page and gently placed her hand on his.
The skin on skin connection caused her body to tremble uncontrollably and a soft moan fell from her mouth as she tilted her head back, breathing hard to the ceiling.
Looking back to their connected hands she started caressing slow circles on his skin for a moment, he seemed transfixed by the sight before quickly coming to his senses.
"Are you stupid Miss Granger? Why would you do such a thing?" he snapped, still glaring down at where her hand rested atop his.
For the first time since the Charm had taken them over he looked up and into her eyes, Hermione could feel her arousal trickling steadily. She licked her lips subconsciously and his eyes seemed to follow her tongue's path with unfiltered hunger blazing across his face.
"I don't think I want to find another way sir," she whispered longingly.
"Silly girl." There was no malice in his tone, just some hesitation.
His gaze lingered on her mouth for another moment or two before he seemingly struggled with his subconscious and tore his eyes away, physically turning his head away from her.
"You are not thinking straight Miss Granger, clearly this book had a 'Compulsion Charm' placed upon it and you are simply reacting to it."
"I'm reacting to it?" She questioned quietly. "Aren't you?"
"I am at least attempting to resist the Charm until I can think of an appropriate solution," he snapped. She could see his eyes flickering around the room, determined not to look at her.
Hermione still had her hand on his and although he didn't acknowledge it, he made no attempt to remove it. She was tempted to further push her luck and slide her hand up until she made contact with the white shirt poking from under his robes but restrained herself, for now.
"So… so, the um, the Charm is affecting you then?" Hermione asked, failing miserably to sound casual. The coiling lust pooling in her centre was painfully distracting and seemed to affect her ability to communicate.
Her professor did not respond verbally, his slow head turn and steely gaze seemed to say more than his words could.
Hermione gasped at the eye contact and sunk her teeth painfully into her bottom lip. His already intense gaze, now suffused with lust, stoked the fire already burning brightly inside.
Her free hand twitched with want, if she didn't do something about the throbbing need between her thighs soon she might go mad.
"Do you think that,—" Hermione stopped herself. She'd thought of a plan, but even the idea of saying it caused her face to flame brightly once more.
She dropped her eyes and hoped he might ignore her abandoned suggestion.
"Do I think, what? Miss Granger?"
She groaned, whether at the sound of his sinful voice enunciating her name the way he had or his request for her plan, she couldn't quite tell.
"Um, I thought that perhaps, if,— maybe.." she stammered incoherently.
"Spit it out girl!" he spat angrily.
"Fine! What if we just touch ourselves?" she blurted out quickly, not looking at him. "Would that fulfill the Charms need?" she added, trying to sound confident.
Snape scoffed and shook his head quickly, still studying the dingy wall of the library. He was difficult to read but his body language seemed stiff and unyielding, not at all willing to compromise.
"Well I don't have another solution," she said quietly. "Do you?" she asked hopefully.
"Go ahead," he finally replied after a painfully long pause.
'Go ahead'
Hermione shook her head. There was no chance he would make this easy for her, that should not surprise her of course. The longing she felt was almost painful now, a constant throbbing between her thighs which called out for attention.
Furrowing her brow Hermione looked at her left hand, still sitting on his. Perhaps removing it was a bad idea? As horrifyingly embarrassing as it might be to hold his hand while masturbating she couldn't take the risk.
She removed her right hand from its vice grip on the back of the couch and froze for a moment. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing in her ears.
If it wasn't for the overwhelming lust pooling tight in her centre she didn't doubt that she would be in tears at the prospect of what she was about to do.
Releasing a slow and heavy breath she moved her shaking hand to the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and slipped under the soft material making contact with her knickers.
The cotton material was already soaked through and clinging to her.
Hermione couldn't help but glance at her professor before finally breaching the material of her underwear and delving into her gathered lust.
His face was pinched tight, jaw twitching as he faced away from her.
She couldn't say that she had ever thought of Professor Snape in a sexual manner before today. But as she ran her middle finger through her slit he might as well have been Professor Lockhart to a hormone riddled second year.
She tried to stay silent and she tried not to look at him while her fingers ran through her slick folds, she achieved neither of these.
Her left hand still rested on her professors as her right circled her aching clitoris.
Hermione could safely say that she had never been more aroused in her life. Of course the Compulsion Charm was a factor, that she was painfully aware of. But as she kneeled facing Professor Snape, who stood rigidly at the back of the couch and fingered herself, she knew that even without a charm; this was the most intimate thing she had ever experienced.
Her professor kept his eyes politely closed and his face turned away from Hermione as her fingers continued their quest.
Catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to stifle her whimpering gasps she sped up her movements a little, she was so close and her need was peaking.
Her climax crested and faded away leaving her electrified and sensitive.
Hermione tried to recover her shuddering breath quickly, trying hard not to make Professor Snape feel uncomfortable for longer than necessary.
When she looked at their joined hands again she could see her fingernails were buried into his skin, leaving crescent moon impressions on his pale skin.
Swallowing hard she closed her eyes, would they know if the compulsion had been sated immediately? She still felt aroused, her sex longing to be filled.
"D-did it work?" she asked shakily.
Snape laughed mirthlessly and turned to face her.
His dark eyes glittered with hunger and need causing Hermione to shiver uncontrollably.
"Don't ask stupid questions girl," he snapped viciously.
His rumbling voice sent a jolt straight to her core, which if anything seemed worse than before.
Hermione wondered if perhaps she had further fuelled the charm, she struggled to control her breathing.
"Sir?" she whispered timidly, when he didn't respond she pressed on. "I t-think we should fix this."
Hermione's chest rose and fell rapidly as her professor regarded her. The couch stood between them, a barrier. Hermione pooled her courage and finally removed her hand from her underwear and as Snape watched she raised her fingers,— still glistening with her release, and placed them to her mouth.
For the first time she noticed a reaction in the stoic man. His eyes focused hungrily onto her lips as his nostrils flared and his mouth opened slightly.
She could see his tongue dart forward and run over his jagged bottom teeth.
"Miss Granger," he growled. "This is not a good idea."
His eyes stayed focused on her mouth and Hermione continued to suck herself clean. When no trace of her arousal remained she finally released her fingers with a pop. Looking up into her professor's eyes she could see hesitation and wariness.
"I don't think we have a choice, sir."
With a dip of his eyes Hermione was suddenly aware of her less-than-appealing attire; her tattered T-shirt was practically translucent from overwear and her pyjama bottoms were far too large for her small frame. Not to mention, the cherry on top; her ridiculous fluffy socks with enchanted glittery snowflakes thanks to Ginny.
She didn't even have a bra on, as she looked down she could see her stiff nipples straining in his direction.
Yet his gaze seemed to linger on her, not outwardly repulsed by what he saw. During her Hogwarts career she had never even thought of Professor Snape as a man; he was her professor, a good one and absolutely terrifying.
Somehow that fear seemed to vastly increase her want.
The smallest twitch of his free hand might as well have been a languid caress and Hermione was powerless to her body's reaction.
Hips pressing forward she leaned into the couch, she closed the distance between them.
"Professor?"
Snape's eyes snapped back to hers, then quickly to her lips. Instinctively Hermione's tongue darted out and dampened her bottom lip.
Straining upwards she carefully pressed her mouth to his and hummed softly with relief.
His lips were thin, but soft and surprisingly welcoming. Almost immediately she opened his mouth with her own and couldn't control her tongue in its quest to meet his. Her free hand moved up the front of his travelling cloak and tangled into his hair, tugging slightly in an attempt to get him closer.
Her fingers laced in his hair seemed to awaken something in her professor, the book they both held onto fell to the floor with a thud as he placed both of his hands on her hips.
With her free hand Hermione pulled up her T-shirt until the hem was resting above her peaked nipples. Snape's large right hand slowly traced up her side until he made contact with her bare breast.
She was panting, hard, chest rising and falling rapidly as long fingers caught her nipple and squeezed.
Hermione tilted her head back, breaking the kiss in order to moan loudly to the ceiling.
Lips were on her neck, trailing down until he sucked hard on her clavicle.
"Sir," she whimpered quietly. "Please?"
She wasn't sure what she was asking for, she just knew that if Snape didn't continue to touch her she would combust.
The tightening in her lower abdomen was reaching an uncomfortable level. Her clitoris seemed to have already forgotten her last release, as it throbbed, aching for attention.
"Sir!" she shrieked as his mouth clamped around her areola.
Snape's hand was in her knickers, parting her folds and exploring her wetness. Hermione's body was on fire, pooling and tightened with anticipation.
She could hear his approval muffled against her breast as he penetrated her with two fingers.
"I need you professor, please?" Finally a coherent sentence.
"What," he said, releasing her nipple with a pop, two fingers still buried deep. "Do you need Miss Granger?"
"Fuck!" she yelped as he crooked his fingers, grinding his palm into her hooded bundle.
"You'll have to ask nicer than that," he said with a sideways smirk.
Both of Hermione's hands found their way to her teacher's chest, quickly unfastening his cloak, it fell beside the charmed book.
As quickly as she could she began tearing at the long line of buttons along his torso, eager to touch his bare skin.
With each button tackled she expected a long pale hand to cease her attempts at undressing him, but none came. One remained buried into her dripping cunt and the other could be anywhere for all she cared.
When the last button on his coat was undone Snape doubled his efforts pressing harder into her and causing Hermione to temporarily stall, allowing a lingering moan to fill the space between them.
"Fuck!" She called out again, thrusting her hips wildly into his hand.
"You've already said that," he taunted, broadening the wicked smirk on his face.
He looked like a predator and Hermione wanted to be his prey, more than anything.
She could not think of anything she wanted more than her professor's cock buried in her. She was so close again, the sound of his fingers buried in her was obscene and caused Hermione to cringe slightly and blush.
His other hand grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"Tell me what you need, Miss Granger?"
"Sir,' she breathed lightly. "I need you. I need you."
She couldn't bring herself to say the wicked thoughts in her mind, there were certain things you couldn't say out loud, even under a Compulsion Charm.
"Tell me girl," he whispered against her lips, stroking her closer to ecstasy as he did. "I want to hear it. Tell me exactly what you need."
Did he know how difficult it was to string a sentence together while his fingers played her like a long lost song. She had never been touched this way before, no man had ever found her pleasure so quickly, surely it must be the charm. There was no way that Severus Snape, feared Hogwarts professor, ex-Death Eater and current spy could be this adept in matters of sex.
He was watching her intently, his fingers were slowing down as that predatory glint flashed in his dark eyes again, the man looked practically feral.
Hermione steeled her courage.
"I, I want you to,—" she faltered, as he moved his fingers faster again. "I w-want you to fuck me."
"I know you are capable of answering my questions with more enthusiasm than that," he snapped with all the vitriol of her Defense Professor. His fingers found that sweet spot again and Hermione cried out, gripping the back of the couch once again in an effort to ground herself.
"Fuck!" She shouted again, unable to stop herself. "Please sir, please fuck me, I need your cock."
"Much better," he purred, his breath lingering on her mouth. "Now, I want you to fuck my fingers until you come all over my hand."
With a final moan Hermione felt herself shatter, walls clamping around his relentless fingers as her second orgasm washed over her. Snape caught her moans with his tongue and suppressed them into nothing more than a muted whisper of lust.
His mouth and fingers left her and continued in the quest she had started, shifting his frock coat off and letting it drop.
Without taking his eyes from her he stalked around the couch until he stood in front of her wearing just a white linen shirt and with his obvious arousal straining hard against black trousers.
With glistening fingers he reached out placing his thumb and index finger on her chin and tilted her head back slightly, penetrating her with that dark stare again.
"Good girl," he said softly, causing a shiver to run down her spine. "Now, get up."
Hermione responded immediately, her legs were unsteady as she got to feet, looking up at her professor towering over her. He repositioned himself, taking a seat where she had just vacated.
She watched as he unbuckled his belt and removed it completely, then moved his fingers to the buttons restricting his tented manhood.
Her mouth was dry as she watched closely, panting lewdly as each button opened audibly. When finally he had reached the last button Snape reached into his trousers and released his rigid length and began to stroke himself slowly as he regarded her.
"Turn around and remove those ridiculous bottoms," he said, voice slightly strained and uncharacteristically gravelly.
She did as he asked, dropping her overly large pyjama bottoms to her ankles and shuffling out of them. Before he asked she also pulled her T-shirt up and over her head and stood almost naked in front of her most intimidating professor.
Hermione caught her bottom lip between her teeth again and peeked at him over her shoulder, he was still lazily stroking himself as he watched her hungrily.
"Miss Granger," he snapped. "Remove your underwear," he commanded.
Eyes wide with shock and excitement Hermione studied Snape's expression. His eyes were fixed studiously on her backside where only a thin layer of cotton covered her final secret from him.
He remained almost fully clothed, shirt buttoned up fully, only his cock held tightly in his steadily pumping fist was exposed and Hermione was powerless to look away.
"Miss Granger," he warned, nodding at her backside impatiently.
With fumbling fingers she grasped at the worn cotton knickers and took a deep, shaky breath before peeling the material from her dripping sex. She squeezed her eyes shut, the wet patch on her underwear was mortifying, she could only hope he might not see it.
Once the cotton was lying between her feet Hermione attempted to kick them away subtly.
"Bring them here."
Hermione sighed heavily, even as she stood naked before him he still made her feel inadequate.
The best she could hope for would be to drive his lust, so with a tiny wicked smile she bent over at the waist, knees locked straight, exposing herself lewdly to him.
For the first time since the Charm had accosted them both, Hermione heard Snape's stoicism crack. His subtle moan made her twitch and shuffle as she plucked her knickers off the ground and held them out for him. He took them, but his eyes stayed fixed on the display she was putting on for him.
When two large pale hands firmly gripped her hips Hermione instinctively straightened up.
"No no," he said quickly. "Back the way you were, spread your legs wider."
His fingers were bruisingly hard, digging into the soft flesh of her hips as he encouraged her to step backwards until his toes were touching her heels.
"Now." His lingering pause was palpable. "Hold yourself open for me, I like to see what I'm eating."
Hermione gasped at his words but moved her hands obediently to her bottom and without a hint of hesitation did as he asked.
"Lovely," he hummed before leaning forward and nudging her folds with his large nose.
She had never imagined any kind of sexual contact with Snape, of course not. He terrified her, but if she had, she never would have thought he might be the type to penetrate her pussy with his tongue.
Hermione keened and moaned loudly as her professor dragged his tongue from her coated sex upwards until he lapped at her puckered hole.
Her sexual experiences were sorely limited, but she was certain that Snape was unlocking some deeply buried desire that she never knew she had.
"S-sir!" She moaned loudly. "Please?"
There was nothing more to say. She had no request, just that he keep teasing her with his tongue. She could feel her excitement trickling freely as Snape continued to explore her thoroughly with his mouth.
"Fuck, you taste delightful," he muttered quickly before moving his deft lips back to her coated folds. "So wet."
She knew she was pressing herself obscenely into him, smothering him with her need but she couldn't stop.
"Please sir! I need you now, fill me up," she pleaded. Hermione's fingernails were digging painfully into her cheeks as she continued to hold herself for him.
Then without prior warning he pulled away.
She straightened up, and looked pleadingly over her shoulder at him. He sat back, his face glistening with her juices. His cock strained upwards, she could see a damp spot of precum leaking from his tip.
"Sit," he instructed, patting his lap in invitation, only once, obviously aware of the direction she craved. "No, don't turn around."
He did not remove his trousers, nor his shirt, he simply waited. She had never attempted sex in such a position before and was uncertain how to approach it.
Chewing her lip nervously she slowly lowered herself until she could feel his manhood pressing against her pussy.
"That's it girl, ride me."
His hands were on her hips again, guiding her, lowering her down until he was fully inside her.
The relief was immediate, like a drowning woman gasping for air she lifted herself and slid back down, impaling herself over and over.
Certainly her technique was rough and clumsy but her enthusiasm more than made up for it. She cupped her own breasts and pulled her nipples hard as her hips continued on relentlessly.
Hermione did not recognise her own sounds as she rode her professor in search of ecstasy.
Snape's hand snaked around her until his fingers found her clit and circled it expertly.
"I thought your little whimpers might be the death of me, witch," he whispered softly into her ear. "The sound of your fingers frantically seeking relief will stay with me always."
Hermione could feel her walls tightening and clenching as he spoke to her, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. His fingers dipping down to gather her lust greedily.
"Listen to that," he said. "Can you hear how wet you are? You're going to come all over my cock aren't you? I can feel it. Come for me Hermione."
His lewd voice was what it took to shatter her.
When her climax overtook her she found herself unable to cry out, her scream caught silently in her throat while her hips stuttered erratically. Snape let out a deep feral grunt and Hermione could feel his hot seed filling her.
"Oh my god," she panted, relishing in the pleasant satisfaction of their combined efforts dripping onto the ancient couch.
Her hips were still jerking softly as she tried to drag out the ecstasy, but Snape was softening inside her, pulling her back to reality.
The room seemed suddenly cold and strained, all of the painful sexual energy had been swept away.
The only reminder of the Compulsion was the fact that Hermione, naked, sat in her professor's lap staining Sirius's couch.
"Miss Granger," Snape said quietly, clipped and business-like.
The reality of their situation sunk into her. With the Charm satisfied Hermione felt an overwhelming shame at her actions and buried her face into her hands, sliding to the floor, sitting between her teacher's legs.
Her mind was reeling, she could feel the Charm's hold on her vanish. She was a pathetic excuse for a witch, who couldn't even overcome a simple Compulsion Charm.
Maybe Professor Snape had been right all along, she was nothing more than a regurgitating parrot, incapable of original thought.
How could she possibly hope to help Harry survive the impending war.
A warmth enveloped her shoulders distracting Hermione from her leaking tears. There was warm black wool hanging loosely against her prickled, damp skin.
Only with the addition of the comforting material did she realise how frigidly cold the room was.
"The book," she croaked between her sobs. "It, it said t-that.."
"Well," Professor Snape said quietly. "Divination is crap Miss Granger and a witch as intelligent as yourself should already be aware of that."
She failed to suppress the giggle that overwhelmed her sadness, his cloak was warm and felt comfortably heavy on her shoulders.
With an unsteady hand she reached out behind her head and when only the dampened velvet material greeted her skin, she realised that he had left her.
Severus paced between the desks of his OWL class. Granger sat between Potter and Weasley with her chin resting against her palm, head lolling slightly as she followed his path.
Her expression was dreamy and lucid, more reminiscent of Miss Lovegood than the usually studious Gryffindor.
The last thing he needed at this time was another challenge stacked on top of an already teetering load. His eyes flickered across the room to Draco, pale and withdrawn. Then settled onto Potter, jaw set in anger and disgust.
He could not allow Miss Granger to become more of a distraction.
"Class dismissed," he said with a wave of his hand. "Essays on my desk."
With his back turned he listened with the intensity of an overworked teacher and spy. The shuffling of parchments, boots scuffing against the flagstones and hurried whispers as the class filed out of the room.
Very little had captivated his thoughts so mercilessly as the memory of Hermione Granger writhing enthusiastically in his lap.
Of course it was simply a Charm, Severus wasn't a fool. The witch had simply been reacting, as had he. He doubted however she was playing the encounter on repeat in an effort to find sleep.
Or awoke suddenly in the night from dreams filled with flushed skin and pleading eyes.
In turning back to his desk Severus' vision honed in on the tidy neat script atop the pile of gathered homework.
Not its usual gargantuan length. He frowned, the chit had never presented work that hadn't preceded the required word count in his six years teaching her. Yet, this parchment seemed at length with her classmates.
Curiosity peaked, he approached the desk. The classroom was empty and silent.
A hazy film of magic shimmered on the page, drawing his attention. Reaching out he ran his hand over the page.
A tingle of feminine energy ran through his fingers, twisting and coiling over his skin.
Words formed above the header of her work in shimmering crimson ink;
Professor,
If you feel compelled, I am more than willing to provide relief.
Hermione.
The ink faded slowly as he watched. With a roll of his eyes Severus gathered the scrolls and deposited them into his desk drawer.
Impudent little chit.