A/N: Hey everyone! I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I have been horribly sick this week and haven't been up to doing much writing. I promise more juiciness and wicked Snape in the next installment. I hope you all enjoy. And as always, pleas read and review!

Much to the displeasure of Crookshanks, Hermione did not rouse herself from rather graphic dreams until the sun was nearing it

Much to the displeasure of Crookshanks, Hermione did not rouse herself from rather graphic dreams until the sun was nearing its apex, his pleas to be fed having gone unheard all morning. Once the half-kneazel was happily gorging himself at his bowl, Hermione wandered zombie-like into the adjoining bathroom and proceeded to go through her morning routine on automatic-pilot. Memories of the previous evening's events played over and over in her mind like a movie stuck on repeat as she stepped under the warm spray of the shower, a subtle tremor rippling down her spine as she remembered Severus' heated kisses and teasing caresses.

Despite her best efforts, his unusually sultry tone and unexpected actions had haunted her dreams all night, leaving her feeling unfulfilled and far too high strung when she finally awoke. Every inch of her skin felt overly sensitive beneath the soothing water of the shower, her nipples hardening to aching points on her chest, while a fresh surge of moisture took root between her thighs.

Regardless of what her parents and many of her friends thought, she was not entirely unfamiliar with the touch of another. Her few brief explorations in the gloomy garden shed at her parent's house with the neighbor's son, however, paled in comparison to the things that the fearsome Potions Master had made her feel the night before. Never, in all her juvenile fantasies and ponderings, had she ever imagined that there was someone who could incite such fire in her veins, leave her so breathless and begging for just one more kiss, one more caress, one more sweep of his tongue over her…

Shaking her head in an attempt to brush such thoughts from her mind, Hermione reached for the bar of soap and quickly busied herself with lathering her body. Unfortunately, each perfunctionary touch of her own fingers upon her skin brought more memories to the forefront of her mind, each touch feeling so lackluster and alien after Severus' fingers had all but danced over her skin in a seductive tango. Releasing an aggrieved sigh into the room, Hermione laid the soap back upon the small shelf with perhaps more enthusiasm than was entirely necessary, and turned to face the water, allowing it to wash the suds from her body.

All the while, at the back of her mind, a deeply purring voice whispered things she would never have the courage to say aloud, the sound of it within her mind as dark and rich as bitter chocolate.

"For Merlin's sake!" she exclaimed several moments later as she remained bowed beneath the showerhead, the water beating a dull tattoo upon the top of her head and streaming down over her closed eyes. "Pull yourself together woman," she continued to berate herself as she turned in the cascade of water once more, arching her back into the steady stream and tipping her head backwards to soak her tangled mop of hair.

Emerging from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Hermione paused in front of the full length mirror beside her orderly desk, observing the deep pink flush that covered her from head to foot. In all honestly, she could not blame the brilliant blush entirely upon the hot water from the shower, a certain amount of moisture lingering between her thighs that had nothing at all to do with bathing.

"When did I become such a hormone driven teenager?" she pondered aloud as she continued to study her reflection, her head tilting from side to side as she watched the water from her wet hair trailing down the side of her throat and over her collar bone. Instantly, unbidden images of Severus flooded into her mind.

In her mind's eye she could see him looming behind her, his voluminous black robes framing her in the simple white towel like a delicate Moon Flower in the darkness of night. Long pale fingers curled gently around her shoulders, the imaginary touch of them sending a shiver of excitement and anticipation rippling down her spine and into her suddenly weak knees.

"Hermione," he purred against her ear in the same tone that he had used the night before when whispering his enjoyment and encouragement into her most intimate of places. "Hermione, touch yourself as you would have me touch you," he instructed, his voice soft yet commanding as his reflection in the mirror locked bottomless ebony eyes with her own.

"I… I can't," she whispered in reply, her cheeks flushing ever darker in embarrassment.

"Yes you can," Severus replied evenly, his hands skimming over the damp flesh of her biceps, drawing a line of goosebumps to the surface of her skin. "Show me how to please you, show me where you would have my hands, my lips, my tongue…" he continued to purr, his voice dropping to lower and richer tones with each word until each one was like a corporeal touch gliding against her skin.

As if of their own accord, Hermione watched dumbstruck as her hands rose shakily to loosen the knot in the front of her towel. In a soft whisper like an expectant breath, the towel slipped easily from beneath her arms, gliding over the swell of her breasts and the curves of her hips to pool uselessly at her feet. Early afternoon sun filtered soft and golden in through the partially open curtains beside Hermione's bed, the shafts of light sliding over her exposed skin, warm and soft as a tender caress.

Although she knew it was nothing more than an over-abundance of restless hormones buzzing through her sleep idled brain, Hermione could not deny the overwhelming thrill that ran through her as she gazed into the mirror. He was not real, she knew, and yet the image of Severus standing behind her, his hands trailing up and down her bare arms, felt more real to her in that moment than anything else.

Thoughtlessly, Hermione's hands rose from their position at her sides, dancing feather-soft over her ribs up towards the underside of her breasts. A hesitant breath rolled over her lips, her back arching slightly as her fingers trailed higher, curling reflexively as they cupped the soft mounds of her breasts.

"That's it," the ghost of Severus' voice encouraged within her mind, his tone almost eager as his imaginary reflection watched the movement of her fingers with hungry eyes.

Feeling emboldened by his purring encouragement, Hermione allowed the fingers of one hand to whisper across her nipple, the small dusky pink protrusion quickly hardening beneath her touch until it stood hard and proud like a gem upon her chest, aching for a firmer caress. Biting her lip to hold back the gasp of pleasant surprise, she grasped her nipple more firmly between her thumb and forefinger, twisting it experimentally and feeling a sudden renewed flush of moisture between her legs, quickly coating her dark curls as the scent of her arousal filled the air. He had not touched her breasts the night before, and yet Hermione was sure that his touch would feel just like this, his hands steady and sure as they explored her and awoke new sensations within her.

Growing ever more confident, and desperate for Severus' touch with each passing minute, Hermione steeled her nerves and looking boldly into the mirror, locking her eyes with those of the imaginary Potions Master, she slid her other hand down from her chest, following the curve of her ribs down to the slight swell of her stomach and to the thick nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. It was when she felt the first soft and damp curl brush against her knuckle, that Hermione's confidence began to waver, a wave of embarrassment coursing through her and causing her touch to falter.

Drawing a deep breath to steady her nerves as Hermione gave a defiant toss of her head, resettling her wet hair against her shoulders, and once again let her curious fingers descend in their quest for new knowledge. The first touch of her fingers against her swollen lips was slow, unsure and a little clumsy, but as they accidentally grazed over the small sensitized bud at the top of her mound, an excited squeak escaped her lips. The tremor of tingling pleasure that shot throughout her body at that small hesitant touch easily gave her the courage to continue, her fingers making another, more confident sweep of her lips and clitoris. The almost growling moan of enjoyment that fell from her lips worked only to bolster her courage all the more, and soon her fingers were damp with her own excitement.

A single sharp knock on the door roused Hermione from her explorations, a renewed flood of color marring her cheeks as she swiftly drew her eyes away from the mirror. Wrapping the towel around her body once more, she drew several deep breaths to calm herself and regain some semblance of normalcy, before striding towards the door.

"What do you guys want now? Can't you give a girl a few minutes of peace…" she was already admonishing as she swept the door open and promptly froze in abject horror and humiliation.

Instead of the blushing and uncomfortably fidgeting boys she had expected, Hermione found herself face to face with the very man who had been tormenting her thoughts all morning.

"Tell me, Hermione, do you always answer the door in such a fetching ensemble?" Severus crooned in a low purr that was pitched barely above a whisper, just loud enough for her to hear over the frantic pounding of her heart.

"I… err… I…" she began to stammer in reply, her cheeks flushing ever darker with renewed heat until she was sure that they were about to catch fire.

"Or is this for my benefit alone?" he continued as if she had not spoken. A nervous giggle and further reddening of her cheeks was the only response Hermione was able to provide as she remained unmoving in the doorway, one hand gripping the door handle while the other clutched at the front of her towel as if her life depended on it.

"Can… can I help you with something, Professor?" she managed to squeak, her knees beginning to feel as if someone had just cast a Jelly Legs Jinx on her.

"Mmm, that is quite an intriguing question," he murmured in sultry tones as his eyes roamed over her unabashedly, drinking in every inch of revealed flesh, and making Hermione suddenly wish that she had a far larger towel in which to hide herself. "However, I simply stopped by as a courtesy. You would not want to leave your belongings lying around in the dungeons, after all," he continued as he produced Hermione's forgotten robes and back pack from behind his back.

"Thank you," she muttered, mentally berating herself for forgetting them in the classroom in the first place; but then, all things considered, she supposed that she couldn't really be blamed for such a small oversight. Reaching out to accept her belongings from the dark man filling her doorway, she bit back a squeal of surprise as he simply swept past her outstretched arm and stepped into the room.

Momentarily frozen in place, Hermione continued to stare out into the hallway, blinking slowly, until her mind kicked back into action. Deciding that it would be best not to have some hapless student come waltzing by to see the scantily clad and dripping wet Head Girl standing in the doorway with the despised Potions Professor behind her, she quickly shut the door. Spinning on her bare heels to face him, she pressed her back against the cool wood, a single trickle of water running down her spine from her still sopping wet hair.

"Was there something else you needed…" she began to ask, only to be cut off a moment later as Severus quickly swooped down upon her, a hungry gleam in his eyes as he planted both of his palms upon the door to either side of her shoulders.

"Oh, there is much that I need, Hermione," he replied in a husky growl, deliberate emphasis placed on her name causing it roll over his lips as a sumptuous caress.

"Last night was…"

"Just the beginning," Severus purred as he leaned in towards her, his breath sweet with the scent of tea, wafting around her face and causing her brain to stutter for a moment as she felt herself drifting closer to him.

"Surely it is not approp…" Hermione began again, shaking her head to regain control of her own thoughts, and once again planting her back firmly against the closed door.

"Do not tell me you are going to start paying attention to the rules now, Hermione," Severus cut in with a rich laugh, his lips curving in the most tempting way as he stepped closer to her, his hips barely a foot from hers.

"Now, just you hang on a minute…" she began to protest, the rest of her tirade dying unspoken in the back of her throat as Severus closed the remaining distance between them. The hot and heavy weight of his hips pressed securely against her own easily erasing all protests from her mind, and drawing a deep sigh of satisfaction from her lips, which were promptly covered by Severus' demanding mouth.

"Would you… kindly… stop… interrupting me… it is really… quite…" Hermione continued to babble in between Severus' heated and persistent kisses. It was as though he seemed intent to devour her from head to toe starting with her lips.

"Do you ever cease talking?" he whispered as he drew his lips from hers and began laying a trail of kisses down across her cheek to her chin, and then down onto the side of her neck.

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed in reply, immediately earning a dark chuckle in response, the feel of his lips curving into a smile against her skin sending an unexpected bolt of electricity straight down into the pit of her belly. "Bastard!" she added a moment later in a hiss, though her voice lacked any true conviction. Her curse flowed easily into a sigh of appreciation as his lips closed around the thick muscle that linked her neck to her shoulder, his teeth scraping across her flesh in the most delicious way.

"Wench," he shot back simply, an amused lilt softening his roughened voice, as he proceeded to sooth the fresh bite mark upon her shoulder with a languid sweep of his tongue.

"How dare you call me…" Hermione began, her back stiffening as her hands fell upon his shoulders to push him away.

Once again, she found herself silenced by his ravenous mouth as he claimed her lips in a thought-erasing kiss.

"Must I find other uses for that silver tongue in order to silence you, my dear?" he crooned against her lips, his hands settling lightly upon hers as they lay on his shoulders. Gently grasping her hands, he guided them down to rest upon his slender hips, feeling her breath hitch against his mouth.