Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; they are the property of JK Rowling. I do however own the sordid affairs within this Fic I hope you enjoy my little story.

Many many thanks and Alan Rickman flavored Bertie Bott's Beans to my fab beta's Merrin and Leigh-Anne.

The Detention of Her Dreams

'Fuck!' Hermione swore as she knocked a glass of red wine off the coffee table.

She reached for her wand and attempted to clear the mess, only serving to double the amount of liquid seeping into the carpet. She left it, intending to clear it up in the morning when she was a little more sober. She could, of course, have taken something to sober herself up right now, but the truth was that she liked the inebriated feeling that nothing mattered. Plus drunkenness usually induced those dreams.

Sweet Merlin those dreams! They were so real it was like all her wildest fantasies coming to fruition. She stumbled up the stairs and down the landing to her room, bouncing off the walls until she reached her door.

Already in her pyjamas, she fell onto her bed and pulled the neatly folded duvet over herself. Closing her eyes, she waited for the dreams to descend: delicious salacious dreams, somewhere between pain and pleasure, so pleasurable in their content yet so painful that they weren't real.

These dreams were her guilty pleasure, surrendering all control to some ethereal being that haunted Morpheus's twilight world.

She lost her self in the pure licentiousness of her subconscious desires. In them she was completely submissive: bound, gagged, whipped, anything that humiliated her, and she loved it. Who would ever have thought that little Miss-Know-It-All was somewhat of a sexual deviant? Well certainly never Hermione herself.

There was only ever one bed partner in her dreams; less partner, more master. He played his part perfectly as he always had. He was as always cruel, but not unnecessarily so, always in control, always calculating in every move he made. His voice was so commanding and his hands could hurt so good.

He was, of course, none other than Severus Snape, the Potions Master, able to design punishments to hurt his students and able to punish Hermione until she screamed, usually for more. Even after his death, he had managed to live on in Hermione's darkest desires. It terrified and thrilled her, the reactions he could extort from her.

Tonight her dreams did not let her down.

She found herself in the Potions classroom at Hogwarts. The candles flickered in the scones on the cold stone walls, making shadows waver. She was dressed in her school uniform, minus the robe. This, until now had never happened. She hadn't visited Hogwarts since the end of her education, in her dreams or otherwise.

Professor Snape sat behind his desk at the front of the classroom.

'Well Miss Granger, are you going to stand around looking gormless all evening? Or perhaps we might proceed with your detention?'

He didn't lift his head from the parchment he was writing on. Hermione walked up to the desk and stood in front of it.

'Yes?' he asked still not looking up.

'I'm sorry sir, but I don't know why I'm here or what you want me to do.'

He looked up sharply, his face stony, one eyebrow raised deliciously.

'Your essay was a disgrace. It was devoid of real research and facts.' He turned the parchment round and placed it in front of her.

She lifted her hand to pick it up.

'No. Leave it were it is. Bend over and put your elbows on the desk, palms flat and read it. I will let you know where it is wrong.'

She hesitated.

'Elbows on the desk, palms down, Miss Granger.' He repeated more forcefully this time.

She bent over as he had ordered, aware of the length of her skirt or lack there of. The Potions Master, or just The Master, as he had become to Hermione, rounded the table and stood behind her. She could hear the rustling of his robes.

'Read!' he commanded.

'The effects of a Confundus charm differ from those of a Confusing Concoction in several…'


His hand had struck her right arse cheek and she gasped in shock and pain.

'Keep reading.'

'…several ways. Namely the inability to regain…'


This time the blow to the left arse cheek.

'…regain coherent thought for several hours longer than…'


'…than if the charm was used. It is also a better…'


This continued through the whole of the essay, her speech punctuated by the sudden sharp noise as a cold hand meet hot flesh. Professor Snape seemed to think there was something wrong in every line she had written. When she was done reading tears were in her eyes. Without seeing it she knew her backside was glowing and angry red.

She could feel her that underwear was damp, no not damp, soaked. She felt hurt, humiliated and more aroused than she had ever been in her life.

'I would continue to punish you, Miss Granger, were it not for the fact you seem to enjoy it.'

Hermione blushed, her clit throbbing.

He ran one hand over the sore flesh of her arse; his fingers took hold of the top of her underwear.

'I think perhaps you need to be punished more forcefully.'

He pulled down the cotton garment covering her most intimate area. It felt like he was exposing her pride and innocence as well.

Her quim tingled as the cool air of the dungeon hit it. It was throbbing, almost painful in its intensity. He let the underwear drop to her ankles. She lifted one foot as if to step out of them.

'No, Miss Granger, I shall tell you when you may move.'

To punctuate his point he struck her smartly across her bare thighs with his wand. A welt soon raised red against the white skin.

He struck her again and again, decorating her derriere with thin lines. She jerked forward a little as if to try and escape the attack, although she dared not move her feet. The involuntary movement earned her an extra lash. She closed her eyes and waited for another explosion of pain. It never came, although she almost did. She was nearly crying at the ferocity of the arousal between her legs. A drop of white liquid fell onto the floor beneath her.

'You really are a little slut aren't you, Miss Granger?' his tone was mocking; he must have seen her juices fall on the stones below her.

Hermione said nothing, trying to control her breathing and to not let another drop of cum fall on the floor.

Hermione felt cold metal against her writs and ankles, her legs being pulled apart, allowing her Master a full view of her most intimate treasure.

The restraints thrilled her. The sense of not knowing what was to happen to her made her tremble in excitement. But knowing she could do nothing about that impending fate made her run wet. More splashed and joined those already at her feet.

The chains that restrained her were deliciously cold and very strong. She felt hands on either side of her head and opened her eyes to see a green ball with leather straps attached to it.

'Open your mouth'

She didn't obey. His hand made contact with her arse and she let out a cry of pain. The ball was pushed inside her mouth, the leather straps tied behind her head.

'Mmmf' she tried to speak as he struck her again.

'The gag is there to remind you to shut up. I had to listen to your wretched, shrill voice for seven years. I don't wish to hear it now.'

Then with no warning but very precise aim, he thrust into her, with what seemed to be all his strength.

She was forced forward against the table. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She felt full and stretched. He thrust into her no more than three times before she felt that blissful release and the pain of her arousal starting to dissipate. He didn't stop thrusting even during her orgasm. Her muffled cries didn't deter him and he kept pounding into her tight cunt.

'Such a shame this isn't your first time Miss Granger, I like my girls unspoiled.' He slid out of her, soaked with her cum.

She almost knew what to expect but nothing could have prepared her for the exquisite agony. He forced himself almost brutally into her tight puckered anus.

'This hole however remains virgin.'

Hermione whimpered, the gag muffling her, as he built up his pounding rhythm again. The intense throbbing between her thighs returned ten fold what it had been. He seemed to lose his rhythm quickly and suddenly he stopped. She knew he had orgasmed, she could feel him pulsating in her tender orifice

He pulled out, and after he had cleaned himself up, he released Hermione from her bonds.

'This detention is over, although I very much doubt that you have learnt your lesson.'

She rubbed her wrists and turned to face her master.

'Thank you'

'The pleasure was entirely yours I assure you.' He said coldly.

Hermione woke with a start and saw a shadow move in the doorway. Without thought, and considerably more sober than when she went to bed, she grabbed her wand and flew down the stairs.

'Defigo!' she yelled, her wand aimed at the door, it locked instantly.

She thundered down the stairs, grabbing the intruder as soon as she was near enough. Her wand trained on his head, she tightened her grip.

'Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house? Lumos.' She add, her wand spewing light instantly.

She couldn't have been more shocked at the identity of the intruder if it had been Merlin himself.

'Professor Snape?'

She let go of him.

'What... how... why... no how? How?'

She was surely either seeing a ghost or she was still dreaming.

He said nothing, just stood as if he had been hit with Petrificus Totalus. Hermione still didn't lower her wand.

'How?' she repeated.

'How what?' he asked seeming to shift control of the situation. 'How am I alive? How have I been in your dreams? How did I get into your house? You will have to be a bit more precise with your questions, Miss Granger.'

'All of the above. And don't Miss Granger me, Severus. This is my house.' She emphasized his name heavily.

'Then might I suggest we move somewhere a touch more hospitable and a touch lighter than your hallway?'

Hermione lowered her wand and walked the few steps to her kitchen. She turned on the lights and the kettle. When she turned round he was at the table, not languid, but still far more relaxed than was polite for an uninvited guest. It was strange to see him in muggle attire; a simple black shirt and black trousers. He lost something of his authoritarian air without his robes.

Silence reigned save for the clinking of cups. She was of course making tea; her mother had always sworn it was the perfect remedy for shock. Having gone through the motions unaware she was doing so, Hermione was almost surprised to find two steaming mugs of tea on the sideboard before her. With a flash of sudden clarity she grabbed a tiny glass bottle from the spice rack and let 3 drops of the clear liquid fall into one of the mugs.

She just stared at the figure opposite her as she sat down and placed a mug in front of him. For once in her life words eluded her. Not ten minutes ago her mind had had her chained to a desk in front of him, practically screaming for him to take her, now she couldn't say a word.

'I never died.' He said taking a mug and raising to his lips. 'As you might have noticed.' He took a sip.

Hermione just kept looking at him.

'It was an unwanted promise of Albus'. He swore if the snake was sent to kill me, Fawkes would save me, as I had saved others.' His eyes glazed over a little. 'I would rather Voldemort himself had tried to kill me. There would have been no saving me from that. I welcomed oblivion, no more heartache or empty endless days.'

He took another sip of tea and looked into his cup, then at Hermione.

'Would I be right in assuming that there is a drop or two of Veritaserum in this tea?'

She nodded solemnly.

'That was very quick thinking.'

He took a large gulp of the mugs contents, as if for courage.

'I can't in all honesty tell you why I've been doing this. Something about you sparked my interest many years ago. So like Lily, yet different enough for it not to be painful. You had the same generosity of spirit, same vivaciousness. It caught me by surprise, the urge to see you that is. The urge to see the woman you had become. To hope you hadn't changed. To wish you were still as childlike and pure as you were at sixteen. Almost Nabokovian, I regret.'

'Why?' Hermione's voice queried

'Why what? Why the dreams?'

She nodded.

'Would you have accepted it any other way? You believed me to be dead.'

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but he cut across her.

'Legilimency. I know your secret desires. I've seen your mind. I was happy to discover those fantasies involved me.'

'You mentally raped me!' Hermione said shocked.

'No! None of it was ever against your will. You're good enough at Occlumency to block me or at least to fight back. But you never did. Had you resisted I would have let you alone.'

She knew she should be angry. She should hex him to hell, or throw him out of the house, anything except what she was doing right now. Nothing.

He had fulfilled a need within her, lusted after her. He had desired her mind not her body, he had only ever awakened her mind.

She should have been disgusted, but hadn't he already proved that he was in fact the man of her dreams? She had dreamed about him, lusted after him, waited in anticipation for his night-time arrival. A million thoughts and emotions flooded her brain.

'I don't know what to say to all this. I don't know you; you were just a teacher; a cold, unfair, purveyor of knowledge. I can't deny that I did have erotic thoughts of you… but this is too much.' Her fingertips massaged her temples and she closed her eyes.

'I'm just a man now. I'm not a spy any more, or a teacher or a Death Eater, just a man who carries a lot of regrets. And some seemingly misplaced affection.'

'You're not though' she didn't remove her hands or open her eyes. 'You're not just a man though! You're Severus Snape!'

She stood up. 'I think you should leave.'

He rose out of the chair.

'You don't mean that Hermione. Your mind has no conviction…'

'Get out of my head! No, I don't want to send you away, but it's what I have to do.' She stared at him her face deadpan. 'Go' she said quietly.

She followed him down the hall to the front door.

'Is this really what you want to do?' he asked turning to face her.

She had her head down. 'This is the way it has to be.'

'But first…' his hands gentled lifted her chin till she was looking into his obsidian eyes. His lips found hers, gently kissing her and feeling her respond.

Her whole body throbbed at the contact and she didn't push him away. When they broke apart he tried to turn and leave as she had asked, but found her hand on the back of his head, guiding his lips back to her own.

He fell back against the front door, his hands on her hips, gently pulling her with him. Her heart was pounding in her chest as if it might break free any moment. This was side of Severus Snape she had never seen nor expected, but also the side she had hoped he had. Opposite to her dreams and fantasies, he was warm and gentle. He reached down and pulled her knees around his waist, her hands already around his neck; he lifted her up and deposited her on the table to his right. He kissed her mouth and neck. They made soft, slow love on the table in the hall.

When they were sated, he carried her upstairs and laid her gently on the bed.

'Stay with me.' She said as he reached the door.

He stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light that glowed behind him.

'Are you sure?' he asked, one hand on the doorframe, searching her face for his answer.

'Yes, I want to be your new always.'

He almost swooped as he rushed towards her and caught her face in his hands, renewing the kisses that he had left there not ten minutes before. She frantically let her fingers unbutton his shirt and slid her hands over his skin, gripping his shoulders as their kisses deepened.

He broke their kiss and reached for his wand. He extinguished the light in the hall and took off his clothes. In the darkness he climbed into the bed. Hermione fumbled blindly for him, his arms pulled her into a tight embrace. She heard him take a deep breath, his nose on her head.

'I think it's your turn to be the teacher.' He said softly. 'Teach me what its like to have someone love you in return.' She didn't say anything, just held him tighter and closed her eyes, letting her other senses imprint this moment on her memory.