Did you ever have a plot bunny that sank its pointed teeth into your ankle and refused to let go? Neither did I until now. Now if only my other plot bunnies would get off of their fluffy arses and be cooperative.
Just to be certain it's clear:
1. This is meant to be a Mary Sue fic.
2. It was written to be a parody of the SS/HG ship. If you don't think you can handle a little lampooning of said ship, you know where the back button is.
3. Since Hermione is a seventh year student and Snape is teaching Potions, this fic is obviously AU. (We won't even go into the fact that she has the hots for Snape.)
Ho'Moaning: Part Duex
The following night Hermione sprawled on her bed in the Gryffindor girls dorm. The scarlet and gold curtains were drawn and several privacy charms had been cast upon them. She thumbed through her copy of Advanced Wand Polishing for Wanton Witches, lost in a fantasy that involved her, her Potions master, and the various impossible-yet-erotic contortions featured in the book.
She sighed with not-so-innocent pleasure as images of caresses, kisses, and an inconceivably enormous member drifted across the landscape of her mind. In the names of Venus and Aphrodite she had to have him and soon. Sitting up, she toyed with her silky, honey-colored frizz as she reflected on how her beloved Professor Snape had recently rejected her. Had he really meant it? Certainly not! They had so much in common. They both loved books. They were both very intelligent. They... Surely the love of books and intelligence were enough!
"Maybe we just need more time together," Hermione mumbled, rolling onto her back, as she began to indulge in a fantasy of his long slender hands gliding over her voluptuous curves. Before the first tickles of pleasure could start to work their magic, she sat up, her chocolate-colored eyes alight with an almost orgasmic explosion of comprehension. "That's it! If Professor Snape spends more time with me and gets to know me better, he will see me as something more than just a swotty, know-it-all school girl. But how?"
Hermione practically bounced down to the dungeons for her N.E.W.T. Potions class the following afternoon. An idea about how to spend more time with Professor Snape had come to her while she had been researching common problems encountered while learning how to become an Animagus for Transfiguration. It had been fleshed out while the other part of her mind had been busy translating several difficult passages for Ancient Runes. Finally, her scheme had been perfected while working on several long and complex calculations for Arithmancy. If it didn't work, she was just going to intentionally blow up a potion and earn a detention.
The door to the Potions classroom and slowly the small group of students filtered in. Ron and Harry beckoned to her, clearly wanting to have her sit with them so the two lazy buggers wouldn't have to actually pay attention to the lesson. Well, today Hermione was on a mission, and they could bloody well struggle on their own for a change. She took a seat by herself and spread out her books and materials.
Her heart stood still when Professor Snape dramatically swept into the room, his black robes billowing about his tall, trim frame with the intensity of a fierce storm cloud. In the dim light of the dungeon, his pale face shimmered like mother-of-pearl, the high arch of his nose lent character and nobility to his countenance, and his lank hair looked silky instead of greasy. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared the class into silence, radiating power like the sun on a washed out winter's day. Hermione drank in his aura like a lost soul in the desert would gulp down water. Merlin's pants, he was so sexy!
Hermione's drop-jawed, wide-eyed stare connected with his hard, obsidian gaze, and she became acutely aware of her own heavy breathing.
"A fine impression of a goldfish, Miss Granger," he sneered, causing the Slytherins in the room to snicker with evil glee. "Now, kindly close you gaping maw and take your seat."
With her face flaming in humiliation, Hermione sank into her seat. The snickers subsided, and she looked at him through her long lashes as he began the day's lecture, hoping that, one way or an other, she would end up in his embrace before the day was done.
"Today we will be studying to uses and properties of Kappa body parts in potion making. Does anyone know what a Kappa is?" he asked, pointedly ignoring Hermione when her hand shot into the air. He waited for a moment before continuing. "Very well. Kappas are water-dwelling creatures that resemble scaly monkeys. They are found mostly in Mongolia and--" Hermione's hand shot so violently into the air that she was yanked to her feet. "What is it Miss Granger?"
"Pardon me, sir. Aren't Kappas native to Japan?"
Severus glared at her and said repressively, "Kappas can be found primarily in Mongolia; the southern portion of Mongolia to be exact."
As he continued describing the creature, Hermione wrinkled her nose. How could Kappas live in southern Mongolia? That's the Gobi Desert. She dug through her school bag for her copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them while her ears delighted in the deep, sensual baritone of his voice. In her vivid, desire-driven imagination, erroneous statements about Kappas were replaced with sweet nothings. His voice was a supple velvet cloak in which she longed to wrap herself. She gave up her search for the book to focus on the rich tones of his voice, slipping into a blissful stupor in which ardent phrases were occasionally interrupted by the words Kappas and Mongolia. The irritation of it brought Hermione back to her senses, and she raised her hand, waving it urgently.
"Miss Granger?" Snape asked, frowning at the disruption.
"Kappas aren't from Mongolia, sir. If I remember correctly, they're found in Japan."
"It seems your famous memory has failed you, Miss Granger. Kappas are native to Mongolia. The question I was about to ask pertained to the uses of Kappa scales in potion making. Can you answer that, Miss Granger?"
"Kappa scales are used in various healing potions by the Japanese more specifically potions used in treating rashes and other skin ailments," Hermione recited, tossing in 'by the Japanese' as a hint. A hint which Snape either missed or ignored.
"By the Mongolians, Miss Granger. Congratulation on memorizing that portion of Advanced Potion-making." He turned to the rest of the class. "Is there anyone else who can name other uses of the Kappa?"
Hermione glanced down at her bulging book bag, still trying to locate Fantastic Beasts. With a triumphant smile she extracted the book, flipped to the correct page, and began reading.
"That's enough, Miss Granger!" snapped Snape. His anger "Detention and twenty points from Gryffindor for interrupting my class!"
The dungeon buzzed with indignant grumbling from all but the Slytherins, who sat there looking like they had been blasted with a Stunning Hex.
A detention with Professor Snape, Hermione thought, pleased with her unintended success at having scored some time alone with him. Granted, it wasn't quite how she would have preferred it, especially the part about losing points, but she would still be alone with him... for hours on end... completely unsupervised... able to do whatever she needed to seduce him...
"You're just put out because she's right and you're wrong!" Ron shouted, coming to Hermione's defense.
Shut up, Ronald, she begged, hoping nothing more than a scathing reprimand would come his way.
"And a detention for you as well, Weasley," Professor Snape snarled. "Since you are so dead-set on defending Miss Granger, you may join her in detention. I'll send word when I find a time most convenient for me and least convenient for the two of you."
Hermione's heart nearly stopped, and tears sprang up in her eyes, making them sparkle like melted chocolate. Merlin's pants, now that I have to serve that detention with Ron, everything could be ruined!
After the last student left the classroom, Severus kicked the side of his desk. Hopping about in pain, he couldn't believe what he had gotten himself into.
"A detention with both that dunderhead Weasley and infatuated swot Granger?" he groaned rubbing his foot. "Why not just toss in the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Pain-In-My-Arse, Neville Longbottom the Incompetent Boy Blunder and make it a complete nightmare?"
There had to be a way out of this mess!
After several scowling moments of deep thought, the Potions master hashed out a brilliant plan that would rectify the unfortunate situation. Snatching up a quill and some parchment, he penned two separate letters for Granger and Weasley in his distinctive spiky handwriting. He summoned a house-elf and sent the missives to their respective recipients.
A/N: Yes, this means there will be a part three. Sorry, but I'm sure you're all dying to find out how it ends.