Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning: This story contains heavy smut. Don't like it, don't read it. :)


"Bugger!" Hermione tripped over her robes and stumbled a few steps. She stopped for a short second, waiting to see if anyone had heard her. The light from the tip of her wand dimmed as she waited in a dark corner of the Hogwarts hallway. She had a feeling she was being watched…

It wasn't completely wicked for her to be out past curfew; she was Head Girl after all. It was her intended destination that was questionable.

"Move along, feet…" Hermione whispered. She slipped into through the library doors and snuck toward the back. When she reached a certain point, Hermione raised the light of her wand and looked upward, reading the sign: The Restricted Section.


Earlier that day, Hermione and Professor Snape were finding one another especially insufferable.

"Miss Granger, put your hand down before I curse it off!"

Hermione slammed her hand back down on her desk, much harder than she intended. She rubbed her fingers while Snape sneered at her.

"Can anyone with real intelligence on the subject of Dark Arts tell me what the most popular Dark potion is?" the Potions teacher continued. Hermione heard Draco snicker at her.

Snape was insulting her intelligence! Bastard, Hermione seethed silently. Real intelligence means "real experience," doesn't it?

She stuck her hand into the air again, her elbow locked tight. She knew the answer whether she had inflicted the actual potion on someone or not.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" Snape snapped, although he glared at Hermione.

"It depends on the victim, sir. Most Muggles are placed under the Cruciatus Potion, which kills them slowly but effectively. Wizards can be useful when put under the Imperius Potion, which continues to work even when the controller is not around. These potions are obviously modeled after their curse counterparts but are faulty," Draco grinned.

Hermione made a noise in her throat that sounded a lot like clearing phlegm and dropped her hand again.

"Yes, good. Miss Granger, please do not make that nauseating sound again in my classroom," Snape snapped. Hermione drooped her head to mouth an insult at her desk, imagining it had Snape's face on it.

He wrote instructions on the board and rubbed his head shortly before he continued. She guessed he had a headache.

I hope your greasy head explodes, you git.

"These are not the instructions for creating those Dark potions. You will be concocting the antidote for the Cruciatus Potion. Begin."

Hermione pulled out all of her ingredients huffily, slamming them all down beside her cauldron. The image of Snape's exploding head was still in her mind.

Bits would fly. We'd probably have to chase them and magic them together again.

She heated up the fire under her cauldron and stirred it several times.

I wonder what kind of potion it would be if a piece of Snape's head fell in?

Hermione sliced up her roots precisely and dropped them in at timed intervals.

I knew the answer to that question! Real intelligence! Just because he's slipped a dozen innocents their death in a goblet and I haven't… I know a fair share of Dark Arts…

These angry thoughts fled through her mind like wildfire, and so did the quiet realization that she didn't know a lot about the Dark Arts. Her knowledge was lacking in that area and Hermione had a hard time admitting it.

She bottled her potion and approached Snape slowly. He sneered.

Ah, I see his head's still attached… That's good, I suppose. I don't think swallowing Snape would be a pleasant experience.

He blinked hard, thrown off of his intimidating posture. Hermione outstretched her hand and he took it from her slowly, his black eyes seeming to search her for a moment.

"You will write an essay on the Dark Arts, Miss Granger, since you presume to know so much about it," he said lowly, his gaze glittering dangerously.

"…Yes, sir."


"Restricted Section…" Hermione breathed and chewed her lip. There were hardly any Dark Arts books in the normal library to do her essay and that was her reason for going out of boundaries. Then again, she was also curious. Hermione prided herself on her knowledge and when Snape had punctured a hole in it…

Hermione took a shaky breath and went in, her wand quivering. The air was different here, more stale and less recycled. She could see particles of dust floating off the towering shelves of books and through her wand light. She bit her lip, not quite sure which book to open first. Many were written in runes that she hadn't even learned yet.

Hermione chewed her lip. She needed one of them or the essay would not be possible.

She could choose the most harmless looking one. Perhaps the smallest… But no, Dark Arts are deceiving, and a small book would be just that.

Hermione grimaced as she perused her choices and finally settled on a medium-sized book with a dark green spine. Vines of faded gold curled down it.

She tugged it out, paused expectantly and smiled in relief.

Still, better to check it before releasing it into the school.

Hermione sat down cross-legged on the floor, letting the large book fall open in her lap.

It didn't scream or lash out at her, as the Dark Arts books were prone to do. Instead, it wafted up a sweet scent of spices and fruit. Hermione felt a smile touch her lips at the smell and squinted at the page.

It read:

I approached the man, sauntering and swaying toward him, the outline of my hips rocking under the sheer material. He stood straighter, trying to tower over my womanly intimidation. There was no use. He was naked, his cock stiff and thick with blood. His black eyes were hooded with animalistic lust and his muscled were already flexing with anticipation. I stopped a few paces away, my fingers pulling the straps of my lingerie off my shoulders, and dropped the material on the floor around my ankles. He inhaled sharply and bared his teeth. It was remarkable that he hadn't moved yet, but I knew how to control him. I left the barely-there panties on, liking the way the material felt cold—

"…when I was wet," Hermione whispered out loud. Then she started slightly, surprised at her own voice. Her legs shook and she was glad to be sitting down. The words were so intoxicating, so… lusty. Hermione had never read anything like it. She had flipped through her mother's dirty romance novels before but found them to fall flat. Hermione leaned forward to continue reading, her curious side grasping at her.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione gasped sharply and twisted around, her wand held at ready. She gasped again when Snape appeared in the doorway to the Restricted Section.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his stare glinting in his wand light. Hermione's own wand light had died when he said her name. Her lips moved soundlessly and her mind told her to run, but Hermione's bottom seemed to be glued to the floor.

Snape strode inside as if he could knock the world over if he wanted to. Hermione's amber eyes swallowed every movement of his face, watching for the moment he would sneer at her.

"Get up, Miss Granger," he growled. She stumbled to her feet, nearly tripping in her hurry. "Again, and you will answer me this time, what are you doing?"

"I…" Hermione stammered. "I was doing research for your essay, s-sir."

Liar. Just tell him you want to study the Dark Arts, Hermione thought bitterly and resisted the urge to kick herself.

His eyebrows rose gracefully and Hermione bit her lip. He was staring at her pretty hard.

"One hundred points from Gryffindor, I think," he said. Although ashen-faced, Hermione thought his punishment was a great injustice. "Go back to your rooms now."

She nodded and made to close the huge book that was still clenched in her hands. It wouldn't budge. She tried to let go, but it was stuck to her fingers.

"Miss Granger, put the book away and leave!"

"I can't!" Hermione snapped back, her brow furrowed. "It's stuck!"

"That's ridiculous." He looked downward. Hermione squeaked and pulled the book against her chest. He snarled angrily and tugged the book into sight again.

Bloody hell, bloody hell, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

Hermione's cheeks inflamed as they both stared down at the promiscuous story. Snape cleared his throat. There was suddenly a nasty smirk on his face.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked silkily. Hermione didn't look up at him and only shook her head. The length of the book was the only distance between them. "That was foolish of you, wasn't it? I would think the know-it-all bookworm would know Dark Arts books can be dangerous."

Hermione shifted her weight - her legs were tired all of a sudden.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, what is this story about?"

Her stomach clenched. Surely he didn't expect her to answer that!

"Care to give me a summary?"

Bastard!

"It-It's about a woman and a man," Hermione said.

"And you haven't finished it yet, have you?" he replied haughtily. Hermione flashed her gaze up at him and back down again quickly.

"How do you know?"

"The reason you can't let go of this book is because you haven't finished the story. A reader can be seduced by this book if they're not… experienced. You're more daft than people assume, aren't you?"

"What?" Hermione choked. All the things that came out her professor's mouth right then were completely unacceptable! "It's just a story about—"

She stopped there. She was going to say "sex" but her Potions professor was receiving her words…

"Seduction is a Dark Art, silly girl," he said. "Now finish the story so I can be done with your Gryffindor impudence."

Hermione bristled, her fingernails digging into the yellow pages.

"Are you staying?" she asked.

"I can't have you sticking your nose into more books, can I?" he shot back, glaring down at her.

Hermione spun away from him, her cheeks bright pink, and she looked back down at the pages. She felt herself falling into the words again, allured by the scent.

"Don't forget to read aloud," he said behind her.

"I didn't before—"

"Yes, you were. You just didn't realize it," he snarled. She sighed heavily and opened her mouth.

With the Potions professor looking over her shoulder, Hermione read aloud:

I was inches away from him. My back arched toward him, my breasts lifting and nipples straining for his teeth. His cock brushed against my lower belly, leaving a small smear of pre-cum on my hot skin. I gave him a smirk, baring the whites that could drive him crazy. He knew it, too. He shifted his feet and his hands twitched toward me. I shook my head. I almost wanted him to hurry, bend me over and fu—

"I can't do this!" Hermione said, her voice high. The book was shaking in her hands.

"Keep going," Snape said sternly behind her. "I won't be here all night."

Hermione sighed.

bend me over and fuck me until I came around him. But I didn't and I didn't let him. Instead, I wrapped my fingers around his cock; the skin was hot and throbbing in my palm. He dropped his head back as I pumped him once, from the head to the base. He finally touched me, pressing down on my shoulders, and letting me know that he wanted my lips around his cock. He wanted to thrust into my mouth; he wanted control. He couldn't have it. I was in control. I made him get on his knees and pulled off my panties. Grabbing his hair with both hands, I guided him toward my quim. I was wet; I could feel the juices on my thighs. When his tongue made the first strong, long swipe, my knees buckled.

Hermione's knees really did buckle, just the slightest bit. She tried to cover it up by shifting her feet and hoped that Snape didn't see it. He was still behind her, holding his wand by her side so she could read in the light. She continued shakily.

He used his teeth but just enough for me to feel it as he nibbled on my clit. I tugged firmly on his arm and he slid one finger into my wetness. I grinded against his hand and tugged again. Another finger joined the first.

Hermione stopped suddenly, taking a second for a breather. The flush in her cheeks wasn't just from embarrassment anymore.

"Go on, witch," Snape said. His voice sounded a little rough.

The story was more arousing than anything she had ever experienced. Hermione hoped Snape didn't have a keen sense of smell.

I loved what he was doing, but he was getting too much control. So I pulled him to his feet again and circled him slowly. He was practically panting as he wiped his mouth on his arm and gave me a smoldering look. I left him again and lay on the bed, spreading my legs wide. I let him watch as I played with myself lazily and then beckoned with two glistening fingers. He prowled toward me, looking angry at my teasing, and fell between my legs, dipping his head to scrape his teeth on my nipples. His cock nudged my entrance and I spread my legs wider, placing my hands on his lower back. The wet head pushed into my quim, stretching—

"No!" Hermione growled, dropping her arms down so that the book's story was out of sight. "I won't read it anymore!"

Her eyes had wandered to the rest of the story, which was even more explicit than the former. She didn't want to read it anymore in Snape's presence. Her belly was clenching and unclenching with an uncomfortable heat. Her panties felt completely drenched. She didn't want to believe it, but she thought she could smell her juices, too.

"Miss Granger," Snape began dangerously.

"I can't," she mumbled. Tears threatened to fall. She felt Snape studying at her.

"Let me see it," he said demandingly. Hermione looked sideways and found his face surprisingly close to hers.

"Why?"

"I'll finish reading it if you're so weak of heart," he snapped. "I'm tired of listening to your whining. Hold it up so I can read it."

"I thought I had to read it?"

"You can read it or listen to it; it's the same either way. The point of view will change while I'm reading it but it's the same story," he explained impatiently. She slowly lifted the book back into view. Snape moved closer to read over her shoulder. Hermione felt his chest bump her back and she bit her lip.

His voice was deep and much huskier than before. Hermione concentrated on not swaying while he read:

She was lying under me - her legs spread shamelessly, just how I wanted her. Her folds were so wet that my cock slipped onto her thigh. I smirked at her frustration and smacked her hand away when it tried to pull my cock into her. I wrapped my own hand around myself and rubbed the head against the reddening bud. She arched, and I finally shoved into her with one forceful thrust. The scream of ecstasy that filled my ears was delicious. She was hot and wet and tight. Her muscles wrapped around me and quivered. I pulled her ankles onto my shoulders and pounded into her thighs so that she could take all of me.

Her knees really did buckle this time. Hermione fell back into Snape, but he stood against her weight like a wall. His arms (much stronger than Hermione had imagined) pulled her upright again.

"S-Sorry…" she stammered, completely mortified at her body's reactions.

"Silly girl," he replied, although not harshly. He even sounded slightly amused. Hermione shivered. His words and hot breath were brushing against her ear.

Hermione wondered if he was close enough to feel the heat between her thighs.

And yet he continued.

Her head fell back while moans and whimpers tore from her throat. I myself breathed raggedly while I fucked her. She came quickly, her muscles contracting and milking my cock as she squealed. It was one of three on that bed. After her second, her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. I twisted her onto her knees and pushed her face into the bed. My cock sprung free, letting her squirm in front of me before I slowly pushed into again. I sunk my fingers into the skin of her hips and pummeled my way to an orgasm. Her damp hair balled in my fist. The sound of wet skin on skin filled the room. I leaned forward to lick some of the sweet and salty sweat from her spine. The sensations came upon me so quickly that I smacked my hands back on her hips and snarled. Heat exploded like abrupt sunlight from my belly and emptied into the sweet woman whimpering beneath me in bliss.

Hermione inhaled shakily as he finished reading. The warmth that had been building up in her belly suddenly erupted with Snape's last breathed sentence. The book fluttered to the floor. Her small fingers found their way to wrap around Snape's forearms where he stood so closely behind her.

He didn't say a word.

The heat was still releasing and more strongly now. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and her lips parted. Her back pressed against his chest as she held on. An unstoppable wave crashed over her and Hermione released a strained, womanly cry, and her head fell onto Snape's shoulder. Her belly clenched one last time and burst the heat into her panties.

She stayed in that position, using Snape as support as she tried to gather herself together again. Her chest heaved feverishly as the realization began to hit her.

She had just had an orgasm.

While clutching to her Potions professor.

Who seemed so mortified that he wasn't speaking or moving.

Fuck, she thought. She wanted to cry but adrenaline still heated her mind.

"Collect yourself," Snape said quietly. She started; his mouth was against her ear when her head had fallen back on his shoulder. Hermione cleared her throat.

"I-I'm trying," she whimpered. She stepped away from the professor on shaky legs. She failed to notice his outstretched hand, cautious of a fall. Her wet panties and skirt were too distracting. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize, Miss Granger," he said swiftly, watching her with dark eyes. "Your body's… reactions are hardly controllable. I promise you that this episode will remain strictly between us."

Hermione flushed a violent red.

"Thank you."

Snape bent to pick up the book and slid it back onto the shelf. Hermione eyed it warily.

"Good night, Miss Granger."

He adjusted his robes in a peculiar way, and Hermione refused to look downward to see what he might be hiding.

"Good night, Professor."


Just to let you know, I have no plans of continuing this story, and half of me thinks I would just ruin it if I tried. I hope you thoroughly, or even just a little bit, enjoyed it though. :)

Love! Soline