Harry and Ron were arguing as they wandered down the dungeon corridor. Neither could agree on which team they believed would make it to the Quiddich World Cup. As they came upon Snape’s office a quiet sigh of pleasure made its way out of the cracked door. Both Harry and Ron froze in shock then battled silently to be the first to peek in the room and witness the scene. Finally Harry’s head bobbed underneath Ron’s as they strained to see into the dim office. What they encountered was more than they were bargaining for.

Hermione was pressed against Snape, her fingers twined in his black hair. They were kissing passionately and every so often Hermione let out a quiet sigh of pleasure. One of Snape’s hands was pressed into the flesh of the small of Hermione’s back while the other was mysteriously absent from view. Hermione had shrugged her school robes off and was clad only in her white shirt and plaid skirt. Harry had a sickening suspicion that Snape’s other hand was snaked under that short skirt, causing Hermione to writhe in his grip. Hermione released Snape’s hair and trailed her fingers down his jaw, then dropped them to her blouse which she began unbuttoning slowly. Snape pulled back from her suddenly and grabbed her wrists roughly; he gave her a lazy smile, released her wrists, grabbed her behind, and lifted her into the air. Snape deposited the panting Hermione onto his desk, pulled her hips close to his, and nipped her lips playfully. Hermione was nearly whimpering with need. Hermione braced herself up with her arms as Snape trailed kisses over her face, down her neck, and nuzzled into her exposed chest.

Harry chanced a glace up at Ron who he noticed was trembling with anger as his face continued shifting a deeper shade of red.

Snape gave Hermione another lazy smile as he ran his hands lightly over her breasts, then suddenly dropped to his knees while pushing hers apart. He buried his face between her legs and Hermione dropped her head backward and let out a satisfied moan.

Without warning Ron drew his wand and barreled into the office. “STUPEFY!” he bellowed at Snape. A jet a red light slammed into Snape’s crouched form and he flew backwards. Harry followed with a perfectus totalus of his own and Snape was rendered motionless. “YOU KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HER, YOU GREASY GIT!” yelled Ron.

Hermione had screamed and tumbled off the desk, she stood up now, buttoning her shirt. “Stop!” she cried. She drew her own wand and reversed the spell on Snape who quickly stood and drew his own wand.

“Weasley, Potter! How dare you attack a teacher!” he snarled.

“How dare you fuck a student!” shot Harry.

“Yeah, you slime ball!” agreed Ron.

“Shut up! All of you!” Hermione screamed. She pointed her wand toward the door and it slammed shut as she muttered silencing charms.

“Need I remind you that Miss Granger is not a student?” growled Snape.

“You teach her, don’t you?” spat Ron.

Snape glared at Ron. “The three of you are here because you shirked off your seventh year. Miss Granger is well above age, and able to make her own decisions.”

“Shirked off?!” roared Harry. “We were defeating Voldemort and saving your greasy ass!”

“You would do well to refrain from calling me names.” Snape said dangerously.

Harry glared back.

“Oh, shut up, will you all?” Hermione snapped coming around the desk. “Severus, sit down I’ll handle them.”

“Severus?” choked Ron.

Snape gave an amused smile and sank into a chair to watch.

Harry and Ron turned on Hermione and began chastising her at break neck speed.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Hermione cried. “shut UP will you?”

Ron and Harry fell silent, but continued to glare between Snape and Hermione.

“Now, I am eighteen years old and I will do what I want with whom I want. And frankly it’s none of your bloody concern whom I’m shagging! And furthermore, Ronald, you had your chance and you blew it. So don’t take it out on me that you didn’t step up when you had the option. And, you, Harry! Don’t give me that look! I’m not doing anything wrong!”

Snape continued to smile in quiet amusement.

“You’re shagging a teacher!” Harry cried in frustration.

“You’re shagging Ron’s little sister!” she spat back.

“You’re actually shagging Ginny?!”

Harry hesitated, then looked away.

“Oh, Harry, bloke,” Ron sputtered with a shudder. “I don’t want to know!”

“Low blow, Hermione.” Harry muttered.

Hermione sighed. “We all have our secrets.”

Ron was looking past the group and into the wall. “How long?” he whispered.

Harry stammered. “Oh, I dunno, Mate, erm…”

“Not you. Hermione.”

“Oh,” Hermione said quietly. “Not that long, I suppose.”

“Right then,” Ron said quietly. He turned to Harry. “Come on, then.”

Harry and Ron turned to leave.

“You’re,…You’re not going to go telling everyone, are you?” Hermione asked haltingly.

Ron paused at the open door. “No, we all have our secrets.” And he and Harry were gone.

Snape rose. “That went well, dear.” He held his arms open toward her.

Hermione closed the door with a flick of her wand, flung herself into Snape’s arms, and wept.

The following afternoon Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Fred, George, and Ginny sat in the back of Snape’s 7th year potions class. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were unusually quiet as the others chattered away while brewing. Harry and Ron were sending obviously nasty looks toward Snape every few minutes, which he returned just as icily.

“You two better knock it off, mates.” Fred whispered.

“Yeah, Snape looks ready to hex the two of you into next week.” George agreed.

“Snivelus won’t do a thing to us.” Ron snapped.

Fred and George sat back, put off by Ron’s nasty manner.

“What’s crawled up your bum?” Ginny laughed.

“Oh go shag your boyfriend!” Ron sniffed.

Harry and Ginny turned matching shades of magenta, Hermione ducked low over her potions book, and Fred and George arched an eyebrow.

“Less talking, and more brewing.” Snape drawled from his desk.

“Oh go sha…” Ron started but was cut off by Harry walloping his arm.

Ron slammed his book shut, gave Snape a dirty look, grabbed his bag, and stalked from the dungeon.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh.

Later that night when Hermione and Snape were alone in his chambers, Hermione really let loose.

“Why can’t they just let it go?” she stormed as she paced Snape’s bedchamber. “I mean, really, Seav, I don’t get involved in their sex lives!”

“Or lack there of,” Snape said lazily as he took a drink of wine.

Hermione turned and gave him an annoyed smirk. “I’m serious!” she laughed crossing the room and sitting down in his lap. Snape immediately set aside his glass, and twined his fingers in her hair.

“Lovely, silly, little girl,” he purred in her ear. “trying to please everyone. You should do what is right for you, and all else – and everyone else – be damned.”

Hermione closed her eyes, and leaned back enjoying the sensation of his hands on her scalp.

“You know,” he went on trailing his hands lower to rub her tense shoulders. “Potter and Weasley have never liked me. And they love you deeply, especially that Weasley. It is only natural that they be opposed to this.” He massaged her shoulders evenly. “You, my love, are a rare jewel in this world full of nothingness. It is jealously that hinders them, nothing more. Do not worry over it, they will come around in time.”

“Do you think?” she murmured.

“I do.”

“Do you remember when this all began?” she asked dreamily.

“Oh, how could I ever forget?”

“Miss Granger!” Snape spat as he looked at her cauldron. “You requested this private tutorial on the Draft of Darkness, and you’ve yet to make any progress. Have you rattled something loose in that oversized brain of yours? My time is valuable!”

Hermione hung her head and muttered an apology. “I’m trying.” She managed weakly.

“Try harder, then! This isn’t as complicated as you’re making it!”

Hermione took a deep breath, wiped away a renegade tear, and leaned over her book again. “Ok,” she breathed. “one cup crushed dragon fang…”

When her potion was bubbling in her cauldron Snape looked at it. “Dismal.” He declared harshly. “Not only is it the wrong shade of green, it’s consistency is atrocious.”

Hermione hung her head low as tears began to drip on to the table in front of her.

“Granger!” Snape snapped. “Stop that whimpering!”

His tone caused her to weep harder.

Snape took a deep breath and regarded the woman before him. “Miss Granger,” he said again, softer this time.

She continued to weep.

Snape took a controlled breath and leaned down until his face was at her level. “Hermione?”

Hermione stop crying, sniffed, and tilted her head so that they were nearly nose to nose. “You called me by my name.”

Snape stood up quickly. “Well, that what it’s for, a name, isn’t it? To be called by?”

Hermione continued to look at him as if she were seeing him for the first time.

Snape regarded her, then flicked his eyes to her potion. “It isn’t that bad. Just a notch or two off.” He said quietly.

Before he knew what had happened, Hermione jumped up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and had pressed her lips to his. Taken aback momentarily, Snape allowed the contact until he felt the unmistakable sensation of the girl’s tongue flick against his lips. He pushed her away.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded.

“Kissing you.”

“I know that, girl, why?”

Hermione smiled. “Because I wanted to. And I think you liked it.”

“You’re a child,”

“I’m eighteen.”

“and my student,”

“Only by accident.”

“and,…” Snape was cut off when Hermione’s lips met his again.

He didn’t push her away this time, but grabbed her arms in a white knuckled grip and pressed his lips back against hers brutally. He pushed his tongue against her lips forcefully until she yielded then he deepened the kiss roughly. Finally he pushed her away again.

“We can’t.” he panted.

“We can.” She moaned, already reaching for him again.

“It’s wrong.”

Hermione smiled wickedly. “But it feels so right.” Her lips fell against the hollow of his throat, then traveled the length of his pale neck. “Take me to bed.” She whispered in his ear.

“No,” he moaned as his hands found their own way to her waist.

She bit down on his ear lobe gently and panted, “Yes.”

She ran her hands down over his torso, lower, and teased his nether region through the fabric of his robes. Her lips found their way back to his ear, and she moaned.

It was his undoing. Without another protest he lifted her into his arms, and carried her through the concealed door behind his desk into his private chambers.

His hands shook slightly as he set her down and unzipped her robe. As it dropped to the floor in a pool of fabric, Snape took in the girl before him. She stood almost shyly in a tight button down white blouse and a pair of skintight jeans. Her hair was pulled up into a high pony tail, her makeup just enough. She was thin enough to have a flat stomach, but curvy enough to gave the buttons over her full breasts a workout and the fabric at her hips a tough pull. Her legs were long in her jeans, ending in petite feet clad in clogs. Snape nearly moaned at the site of her. His fingers flew to the buttons of her shirt, and soon she let that fall to the floor too. Her firm breasts were straining at the white lace of her bra as she panted. Snape allowed himself to cup both breasts in his hands and felt his knees weaken. Hermione threw her head back and her chest forward, writhing under his skilled hands.

“I have to have you,” he hissed.

Hermione looked him square in the eyes. “Take me.”

Snape shed his clothes as Hermione wiggled out of the rest of hers. Nude, she stood before him waiting.

“You’re beautiful,” he managed.

Hermione smiled and ran her hand down his pale stomach – which she found pleasingly muscular. “You don’t have to be kind to me.”

Snape gazed at her and realized that she’d expected him to use her roughly, then toss her away. He touched her cheek softly. “You. Are. Beautiful.”

Hermione blushed, took a few steps backward, then laid out over the bed. Snape was so hard by this time, it was painful. He wanted very badly to climb on top of her, have his way roughly, and be satisfied. He felt, however, that she deserved more. He moved toward the bed, climbed on, and knelt at the foot. He brought his lips to her knee, then moved slowly up her inner thigh. Hermione was moaning loudly, calling his name, and when he buried his tongue deep inside of her, her hips began to buck almost instantly. She came forcefully, pulling at his hair, and alternatively calling his name and that of God. Snape chuckled low in his throat and brought his lips up over her belly to suckle on her swollen breast. Her fists gripped the sheets as her body twisted in ecstasy. Unable to hold back any longer, he centered his aching member, and with one quick thrust, he entered her. There was a brief moment of exquisite pain on her face. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he held himself perfectly still.

“A virgin?” he nearly wept. He almost lost it inside of her at the thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hermione bucked her hips forward, writhing her body impatiently. “Well, I’m not anymore.” She panted. “Please don’t stop.”

Snape was torn between guilt and the unimaginable pleasure that was nearly his. Hermione, growing increasingly bolder, began to thrust under him and Snape lost himself for a moment in the pure pleasure of being fucked by a young virgin.

“Dear Jesus,” Hermione panted. “Please!” she whimpered.

Finally, Snape continued, found his rhythm, and it wasn’t long before they were calling each others names together.

The rest was, as they say, history.