Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Broken Dreams	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34540 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, own nothing of Harry Potter, haven't met any of the people (except Alan Rickman and sadly that was brief)

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
When the new DADA professor arrived at Hogwarts Friday morning, Severus took an instant dislike to the man.

Randy Sunderland reminded him immensely of Lockhart, thankfully only in appearance. He was a relatively young wizard. Auror trained, although, he'd spent his last few years working out of the country.

Severus interviewed the man, asking him the most obscure questions that came to mind. Randy answered each one thoroughly and without flubbing, his cheery smile never faltering once.

With a curt nod, the headmaster dismissed the new DADA professor, lightly sneering at his shiny cloak and traveling suit and too long ponytail.

"I know that look on your face, Severus," McGonagall chided moments after the new professor left his office. "I hope that you were nice to him."

Severus balked at the elderly witch. "Whatever gave you the idea that I was anything but pleasant?"

McGonagall's eyebrows shot up to her hair, nearly disappearing in the brim of her hat. "I've invited him to the Quidditch game tomorrow. Somehow it slipped your mind to mention it."

"Yes, that is precisely what happened."

Inhaling sharply in exasperation, McGonagall turned away from Severus and walked out of his office.

That Saturday there was a cacophony among the students as they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. Half of them were excited about Gryffindor playing Hufflepuff; The other half - mainly the girls- were giggling and gossiping about the new, young, handsome professor that they'd gotten a mere glimpse of at dinner the evening before.

Hermione sat in the teachers and parents' box, squeezed between professors McGonagall and Sprout.

"It's good to see my house playing!" Pomona said, cheerfully patting Hermione's hand.

Hermione smiled and looked down at her own red and gold scarf wound round her neck. When she'd excused herself on the way to her seat, the headmaster caught sight of the symbol of her old house and gave her a pointed smirk.

She'd fought back a laugh, remembering how she'd set fire to his robes during her first year at Hogwarts. He still didn't know that she was the culprit, and Hermione decided that maybe one day she would tell him.

While the three witches were immersed in conversation, Severus couldn't help but notice that the latest addition to Hogwarts was practically rubbernecking to gander at the Potions apprentice.

Forcing himself to look back at the blur of red and yellow whizzing past, Severus tried to squelch the niggling flash of malcontent that came over him.

Glimpsing over at Hermione, he noticed that she was staring out at the Quidditch players, no doubt looking for Ginny whom was the Gryffindor's Seeker. Between peeking out onto the field, she was looking over at their commentator.

Luna was beaming as she eagerly clutched onto the speakerphone. McGonagall had hurriedly leaned over Hermione and Pomona, sharply reminding the eccentric witch to stay focused on the game only.

Thirty minutes into the game, Hermione found her attention faltering. She still didn't have a profound love for the sport, but came out to support her best friend as well as her old house. What was more interesting was the fact that many of the female professors were in a more relaxed mood, laughing and gossiping among one another.

Hermione found that it was nearly like being in the dorms as they were quick to include her in the conversation. There was only the slightest kerfuffle when McGonagall nearly tripped in a hasty attempt to dash over to Luna, whom begun going off on one of her tangents, nearly forgetting to announce that Gryffindor had just scored.

After righting her hat back upon her head, McGonagall sat back among her colleagues, her face only slightly pinched as she threw the young, blonde witch one last irritated glance.

The conversation finally broke up when Luna announced that Ginny had caught the Snitch, causing the entire Gryffindor section to burst out into wild whoops of joy. Hermione caught Severus' eye briefly, taking the opportunity to lightly toss her red and gold scarf back over her shoulder before turning away.

Madam Hooch ended the game and everyone began rising to leave the stands. Severus stepped forward to help McGonagall down, Hermione lending her own hand to Pomona to do the same.

Hermione trailed in behind the group when she ended up tripping over her own feet. Severus turned around when he heard the sudden yelp, inwardly fuming when Randy was only too happy to catch her by the elbow.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, extricating her arm from her rescuer's.

"Hermione? Hermione Granger, right?" he asked, flashing a set of pearly white teeth.

"Umm, yes?" she answered, warily eyeing the grinning wizard.

"Ahh, so I finally get to meet the last of the Golden Trio," Randy continued. "I'd briefly met Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley at the Ministry; pity that they failed to mention that you were so-"

"Hermione!" Luna called suddenly, practically floating towards her friend. "Are you ready to go celebrate?"

"Yes," she answered, turning around and completely ignoring the still smiling Randy. "Well it was nice chatting," she told him offhandedly, ignoring that fact that he'd still been speaking before being interrupted.

Severus was still in the stands, and took malicious delight when he noticed Hermione's brush off. Still smirking, he turned around and made his exit.

"Did you enjoy the game?" Severus asked Hermione later that evening. They were in his sitting room in the dungeons, him reading and she perched on the runner before the fireplace, playing with Midnight.

"I guess," she replied, laughing as the kitten batted his paws at her. "I'm glad my house won. Too bad it wasn't Gryffindor versus Slytherin, we could have placed a friendly wager."

Severus scoffed at the idea. "Cheeky witch, I should have changed your scarf's colors to silver and green."

Hermione snickered when she remembered her flippant gesture towards the headmaster. "I didn't realize Professors McGonagall and Sprout were so hysterical. I don't know what was more amusing, them or Luna's comments about the game."

"Yes, the old bints. They've been like that for as long as I can remember, especially at meal times. I think they merely toned it down for your innocent ears."

Hermione was still laughing at the 'old bints' remark. "Severus! That's not nice."

"It was nice of me not to mention how you'd nearly gone arse over elbows in the stands."

"Oh you," she grumbled. "That new professor caught me. He's seems a bit odd, no? He kept grinning like a Clabbert. Of course he had to mention the whole 'Golden Trio' thing," Hermione continued, rolling her eyes.

Hermione still grew uncomfortable whenever the unwelcome epithet was used. She'd fought just as hard as everyone else at Hogwarts in the war and felt somewhat embarrassed whenever anyone tried to speak as if she and her friends had single handedly taken down Voldemort.

She knew that Severus bore scars that would never go away as a result of his espionage, even if his tightly button black suits managed to conceal them all. Of course, it seemed that his dark past was more discussed compared to the fact that he'd risked his life many times over for the cause.

"So I'd noticed," Severus replied easily, not giving into the flash of anger he'd felt at the new professor's hands on Hermione.

"Midnight, let go," Hermione softly chided, focus on untangling a few loose curls from his grasp. She seemingly hadn't picked up on Severus' last comment. "Let go!"

The black kitten had intent designs on the long curls hanging down, and apparently they were too tempting as he wouldn't let go.

Severus closed his book and set it down, walking over to Hermione. He easily pried her hair out of Midnight's paws, sending the minuscule feline scurrying across the room.

"Thank you," she said, standing and smoothing out the snarled tresses.

"I told you the damned thing was spoilt. You incessantly dote upon him."

"But he's so adorable!" Hermione replied with a smile. "I can't help it."

"Bloody sentimental..."

Hermione rolled her eyes, conjuring Midnight's saucer of milk and leaving it out before following Severus into his bedroom.

Despite all that had transpired between them, he still groused whenever she attempted to change into her nightgown in his presence. Taking the garment into the lav, Hermione made quick work of changing in the frigid room. By the time she made her way back to the bedroom, Severus had already changed into his pajamas and was lying on his side in bed.

"You know, I think you've ruined me," Hermione murmured conversationally after crawling into bed.

"I'm beginning to believe that darkened rooms, my bedtime, and your ridiculous notions are all correlated," Severus replied without turning over.

"I mean it," she continued. "I tried touching myself, but it doesn't work unless I'm able to feel your hands at the same time."

Hermione had barely taken her next breath when she found herself lying beneath Severus, his weight gently pinning her into the mattress.

"You utter these things with absolutely no regard as to how they chip away at my last vestiges of self control," he practically snarled in her ear.

Still reeling in shock, Hermione was unable to keep herself from sliding her fingers into Severus' hair, tugging his head down wanting to be kissed. Surprisingly he acquiesced, slowly letting his tongue trace across her lips before swirling it around hers.

Hermione was sure that Severus was going to pull away after a few minutes, and wrapped her legs around his before he had the chance to do so. Keening softly when he stayed in place, she shivered involuntarily when his lips found met the side of her neck, tracing kisses down to her collarbone.

Severus was amused when Hermione tried to keep him in place; he could have easily thwarted her efforts if so inclined. For the meantime, he decided to humor her.

His weight shifted slightly, and Hermione grew anxious when she thought he was about to halt their activities. Only when she felt his fingers unfastening the buttons at the top of her nightgown did she marginally relax.

Severus wordlessly tugged at the garment until Hermione was bare from the waist up. The young witch screamed inwardly when his warm hands made their way over her torso, gliding to the undersides of her breasts.

"Severus," she moaned softly when his hands continue traveling upwards, cupping the sides of her pliant flesh, his slightly calloused thumbs grazing over the pebbled nipples.

Hermione's next moan was more fervent when Severus lowered his head, his nose burrowed into her soft skin before gently capturing one nipple between his lips.

Becoming lost in the intense sensations sweeping over her, Hermione nearly forgot what she was supposed to be doing until hearing Severus' deep baritone at her ear, sending a thrill down her spine.

"Touch yourself."

Unable to resist even if she wanted to, Hermione slid her right hand down between their bodies, slipping it inside her knickers. Her breath grew short as she stroked herself the way he'd showed her.

Working her left arm around Severus' neck, Hermione was intent on holding him in place. His hair was tickling her décolleté, although the sensation wasn't wholly unpleasant. Severus still had both hands encircled around Hermione's waist, his fingertips occasionally gliding across her skin causing it to break out into goose bumps.

Coupled with the sensation of his warm mouth and tongue eagerly licking her nipples, Hermione soon found herself instantly on edge.

"Don't stop," she gasped breathlessly, her hand tightly fisting his collar.

Combined with Hermione's efforts at masturbation and her trembling body, the bed was shaking slightly beneath her and Severus.

Severus shifted his head and rested it a hairsbreadth away from Hermione's. He was able to feel her breath coming in warm, shortened puffs against him. Bending down he gently captured her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly before sucking on it.

Hermione let out a muffled groan, her hand now moving more aggressively. Her ministrations became slightly more erratic before her body arched sharply against Severus', her breathing labored against his mouth. The young witch was silent as she was thrown over the precipice, her body quivering harshly and her hand clutched so tightly around Severus' pajamas that he was sure they were going to rip.

Keening softly, Hermione's body finally relaxed beneath Severus', her hand sliding down from his neck.

"What about you?" she asked softly after awhile, arching her hips up into Severus' and feeling his erection.

"What about me?" he asked huskily, pressing his lips to the side of her face.

"I'm the only one that-"

"My self control far exceeds yours, Hermione."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Severus merely swore under his breath, moving from between Hermione's legs and laying back down on his side of the bed. She immediately grew disgruntled, wishing that she knew what he was thinking.

"Lost on conversation?" Hermione asked, shrugging her nightgown back over her shoulders and situating herself next to him.

"Not entirely," Severus replied. "I just don't feel the need to overanalyze everything like some."

"Doesn't it bother you that this is a bit one sided?"

"Believe me, when I have you completely it will be anything but one sided. Now you know the terms of my conditions and you'll not force my hand in this."

Hermione scoffed lightly. "As if anyone could force your hand in anything."

Severus merely grunted in response. "Come here, you little provocateur."

Hermione shifted closer until she was pressed snugly against Severus' side. His now semi-erect penis was pressed against her thigh, and she slowly slid her hand down to grasp it.

Severus instantly caught her hand, bringing it back up and placing it atop the eiderdown.

"I merely wanted to touch you; why are you being so contrary?" Hermione asked, trying to slip her hand out of his.

Stronger fingers easily clasped tightly enough around her wrist to keep it in place without causing pain. Hermione hissed in annoyance yet stopped struggling.

"Are you going to behave? Or will you need to be restrained for the rest of the night?" Severus asked easily.

"One day you're going to let me touch you," Hermione told him after he'd let her hand go.

'Bold little witch,' he thought to himself. Little did Hermione know, but the man was treading on thin ice. If Severus let her continue with her explorations, virgin or not she would have found herself pinned to the bed with her nightgown pushed up, knickers ripped off, and his body firmly planted inside of hers.

"You sound very sure of yourself," he finally managed to get out.

"Oh, I am," she replied, using the freed hand to stroke Severus' cheek. Without making a sound he turned his face, gravitating towards the gentle caressing fingers.

Hermione knew that Severus was the sort to voice his displeasure at any given opportunity. When Hermione stroked his face and hair at night, he remained silent and she took that to mean that he enjoyed her ministrations.

Of course, she never actually expected him to say so. There was a better chance that she'd becoming a professional Quidditch player before Severus would admit to taking joy in something.

Severus did in fact revel in the placid sensation of Hermione's little fingers stroking his skin. Despite working with dirty cauldrons and caustic ingredients all day, her hands would still retain their sweet, vanilla scent.

If his slightly bristled cheeks felt rough against her hands, she never complained. Instead, Hermione would slowly run her fingertips across his lips, forehead and even his nose. It was as if she wanted to commit his features to memory merely by touch.

There was something to be said for the transitional state between wakefulness and sleep, as it was the one time of the day where Severus didn't feel on edge. He didn't have to worry about his past misdoings, the daily stressors of running a school or anything else. Severus welcomed the short space of time, where his body felt completely relaxed.

It was those times that Hermione's hand would drift from his face and into his hair. The first time her fingers insinuated themselves into his scalp, he wanted to query her about her obsession with his hair. Then her fingertips pressed down and rubbed just firmly enough to nearly send him to sleep moments after.

After that he never denied the little witch the chance to touch him, so long as her hands remained above his neck. Severus had exemplary self control-it was second nature. Still, the feel of her body pressed against hers and the memory of her moaning his name never failed to set his pulse racing.

Severus knew he told Hermione that their intimate activities would be kept to a minimum, only until she'd finished her apprenticeship. But even he knew that the excuse was partly a ruse.

True, he wanted her to keep focused until her Potion Master's exam. But the truth was that if he were to claim her in every way a man could claim a woman, he knew that he wouldn't want to give her up afterwards. Severus was unrepentant about being possessive and controlling.

Hermione was young, and despite going through what most twenty year olds hadn't, she still had a lot to learn about life. She was also the type that hated to relinquish control, although seemingly she had no trouble doing so when it came to Severus, another thing that made him uneasy.

Admittedly Severus had mixed feelings about the young woman, but he would have been a fool to deny the fact that she had gotten under his skin in more than one way.

He still hadn't forgotten about Ronald Weasley forcing a kiss on her, or the way the new DADA professor openly leered at her, as if he wanted to claim her for his own.

Severus, however, already had his claim on Hermione, despite her not knowing it and him reluctant to admit it to himself.

"How are things with the new professor?" Hermione asked Ginny later on that week over lunch.

"Not bad actually," she answered between bites. "He's not old Digsbywall but still, the class is quite enjoyable. Professor Sunderland sort of reminds of my brother Bill, with that ponytail and all."

"I was going to say a smarter version of Lockhart," Hermione mumbled into her pumpkin juice.

"At least he didn't offer you his autograph," Ginny replied sniggering.

"Well it's not as if you could forget the man!" she hissed under her breath, not wanting to the other students to hear her talking about her colleague."His grin is wide enough to render one blind."

"You make him sound like a Cheshire cat, Hermione."

Hermione took another large bite of her roast beef sandwich, chewing thoroughly before swallowing. "He reminds me of one."

"Randy isn't that bad," Ginny said. "Besides he's pleasant enough in class."

"Randy?" Hermione asked incredulously. "He lets the students call him by his first name?"

Ginny gave a noncommittal shrug. "He told us we could call him Randy or Professor, whichever we prefer."

"Brilliant. I hope he keeps his casual attitude confined to his own classroom," Hermione grumbled. "I've had enough trouble with students as it is. The last thing I need is someone becoming too familiar."

"Blimey, Hermione. You talk as if you don't like the man."

Hermione remained quiet, taking another bite of her sandwich. She didn't completely dislike the new professor, but he'd rubbed her the wrong way since the day of the Quidditch game.

"Anyway he's sort of fit, don't you think?" Ginny continued conversationally.

"Ginny! And you talk as if you fancy the man!"

The redhead smirked, picking up her goblet. "I'll admit that he's good looking, but I definitely don't fancy him, at least not in that way. Besides I've my eye on another wizard."

Hermione's ears prickled at the phrase 'another wizard'. "Ooh, don't be shy. Is it someone from here?"

"In a manner of speaking," she replied mysteriously.

"Well?" Hermione urged for her to continue.

"Mm-hmm," Ginny mumbled, her mouth full of roast beef. "It's still early and we haven't actually told anyone about us. I'd like to keep it that way for now."

Hermione thought about her late night trysts with a certain raven-haired wizard and decided not to push the issue.

"No problem Ginny," she promised.

"So when is your Potions Master's exam?" Ginny asked, changing the subject.

"The same week as end-of-term," Hermione replied in an aggrieved voice. "Which is a bloody inconvenience. Damn, speaking of which, I've got to get back to the classroom and prepare for the next afternoon lesson."

"Merlin, Hermione! You've only been here for twenty minutes, half of which you spent nearly inhaling your food."

"Yes well, if I don't get back, then who knows what state the classroom will be in, or hell, if Slughorn is even there," she replied, picking up her goblet and draining its remnants. "It's a miracle that I got down here in the first place. Lately I've spent more afternoons wolfing down my lunch hunched over textbooks and rolls of parchment. It was nice to sit at a table and eat properly for a change."

"You wouldn't have come if I hadn't gone to the classroom and dragged you out," Ginny replied with a laugh. "It's almost like before except we had to pull you out of the library."

"Shush. I'm off then- tell Luna I said 'hello' if you see her."

"You'd better show your face at dinner!" Ginny shouted behind her.

As Hermione expected, when she arrived at the classroom it was empty. Knowing that it was futile to wonder where Slughorn was hiding, Hermione went to the storeroom and began pulling out ingredients for the next class.

She was still grumbling to herself for having to sort out the extra work when a knock came at the classroom door.

"Yes?" she called out, her voice muffled from the bottom of the storeroom.

"Is that you Hermione Granger?"

Furrowing her brow, Hermione wondered who was intruding on her, referring to her by her given and surname. Coming out of the storeroom with a large, thick glass jar in her arms, she froze when she saw the new DADA professor standing before her.

"Was there something you needed help with?" Hermione asked brusquely, continuing onwards to the center of the classroom.

Randy hastily stepped forward, holding out both arms in an attempt to remove the jar from her arms.

"No thank you. I've got it," she replied, easily sidestepping him and setting it down on the lab table.

"You're the Potions apprentice, right?" he asked, his face stretched into its proverbial wide smile.

'No, I'm here for Divination. The jars of pickled cockroaches and beetles' eyes are merely a ruse,' she thought to herself.

"Yes," Hermione finally answered in a clipped tone, now sorting out ingredients on a large tray.

"Very impressive. I admire you; I was rubbish at Potions when I was a student," Randy continued, seemingly intent on carrying on a conversation with the young witch."

"Hmm," Hermione murmured, her eyes still focused on neatly dividing everything into glass dishes.

Despite her lackluster responses, Randy leaned against a lab table and continued speaking. Hermione merely interjected a "hmm" or "is that so" every so often. Really, she just wanted him to get out of the classroom and leave her to her thoughts.

'Why the devil doesn't he leave?' she fumed inwardly after mumbling "hmm" for the fifth time. Randy Sunderland surely did remind her of Lockhart-someone that spoke merely to hear their own dulcet tones.

A handful of fifth year students suddenly walked in the classroom, two of the girls stopping when they saw the handsome professor idling against the table.

"Hello, Randy," Danitra Wylie, a witch from Slytherin said in a too soft voice. Her best friend, Morgenne Esther was by her side, also making eyes at the professor.

"Miss Wylie and Miss Esther, kindly take your seats," Hermione crisply said to the two girls.

The two witches grudgingly took their seats, a forlorn expression on their faces. Hermione instantly felt her face turning into a frown, and had to force herself to stop.

'Bloody hell, they act as if the man has Honeydukes pouring out of his pockets!'

"No worries" Randy said jovially to the young Slytherins. "Dani and Morgenne, a pleasure as always. I'll see you two next class."

Hermione tried not to bristle when she heard the professor referring to the Danitra by her nickname. Danitra, on the other hand, seemed to not mind and merely giggled.

'A giggling Slytherin-well I'll be.'

Right then, the rest of the class came pouring into the room, on tail end of the queue Professor Slughorn and the headmaster.

"Ah, headmaster Snape!" Randy said cheerfully, walking over to the dour man. "I was merely admiring Hermione's work ethic. She's nothing short of amazing to be so young and to have tackled such a difficult post."

"Indeed," Severus answered tightly, although his face concealed any sort of emotion.

"Professor Slughorn sir, better hold on tightly to your apprentice. She's so adept I might have to steal her!"

"Yes yes, Granger is quite the witch!" Slughorn chirped. "Why I think I'd be able to retire tomorrow if I so wished. She handles everything so admirably."

Hermione stood awkwardly, peering at the menacing look on Severus' face, to the cheery dispositions of Randy and Slughorn. The latter pair were cackling so hard at the poorly delivered joke that Hermione wished that Randy would choke on his own spit.

'I need a ruddy pair of boots just to get through the muck,' she thought.

Furtively peeking back at the headmaster, Hermione saw that his arms were folded over his chest, completely swallowed up by his black robes. His face was still passive but Hermione had learned enough about Severus to know that whenever his disposition appeared so, it meant just the opposite.

She suddenly felt as if she'd been caught doing something wrong, yet wasn't sure what it was.

"I won't take up anymore of your time," Randy said lightly to Slughorn. "I was just passing through."

"No problem, old chap! Until next time," he called behind the wizard as he flitted out of the classroom. "Headmaster, I'll have that paperwork for you by the end of the day," Slughorn then said, turning towards Severus.

Hermione watched as Severus nodded curtly, turning sharply enough to make his black robes swish angrily behind him as if they matched his mood. He didn't spare her so much as a passing glance before walking out, leaving her feeling slighted.

Hermione felt on edge for the rest of the day. Paying rapt attention to each student did little to soothe her agitated nerves. To make matters better or worse, depending on how she was looking at it, Slughorn asked her to 'be a dearie and run this parchment to the headmaster'.

Her stomach rolling with trepidation, Hermione made her way to his office in the tower. It was a few minutes before the gargoyle slid back.

She'd made a motion to step forward when Severus came out into the corridor instead. Taking the parchment from her hands, Severus uttered a short 'thank you' before turning around and walking back inside.

Hermione stood in the corridor for longer than was necessary, her mouth still hanging open in shock. Silently fuming, she made her way back to the Potions classroom.

When dinnertime rolled around, Hermione was in no mood to go down to the great hall. Apparently Ginny wasn't concerned, as she stormed right into the classroom and into the office with Luna behind her, tugging on Hermione's apprentice robes until she stood up.

"All right, Ginny!" Hermione snapped, breaking free of the redhead's grasp and picking up her rucksack with more force than usual. "You bloody loon, I'm coming. There's no need for you to get shirty with me."

"Hello, Hermione," Luna said, completely oblivious to the struggle between her friends. "Ginny was worried that you wouldn't have a proper meal tonight, and said that we needed to come fetch you."

"I see," Hermione said, scowling at Ginny whom merely threw her a defiant glance. "Well let's get a move on before a certain ginger witch decides to bind me to a chair and force feed me."

Ginny smirked, walking next to Luna and following in behind Hermione whom began a hasty canter down the corridors.

Hermione had been hanging onto her composure by fine gossamer threads. When she took her place at the staff dais, the threads were practically cut by the cold reception she received from Severus.

He never did anything out of the ordinary to acknowledge her presence; his behavior had remained constant as when she was a student and when she began her apprenticeship. However, to Hermione it was as if he was speaking to her without verbalizing a thing, and the tension between the two was nearly palpable.

Of course it went unnoticed by the rest of the staff. Randy was perched between Hagrid and Flitwick, behaving in his normally chipper manner. He'd thought nothing of leaning over to jest with the witches across the table.

McGonagall and Pomona found his antics amusing; even Trelawney's already bugged eyes were enlarged with mirth behind her round, over-magnified spectacles, giving her the look of a frightened owl.

Hermione had a perpetual knot in her stomach and found that she had no appetite. She merely picked at her meat, only able to manage a few forkfuls of her mash and peas.

Severus's scent managed to waft over in Hermione's direction, and she was able to pick it out even amidst the platters of food on the table. Her anxiety was heightened, causing Hermione to drop her fork and push her plate away.

None of the professors at the dais noticed, yet when Hermione looked out at the students, she saw Ginny looking directly at her, practically glowering in her direction.

'When the hell did Ginny become so pushy?' Hermione inwardly snapped. Picking her fork back up, she forced herself to eat the rest of her mash, barely tasting each bite. She then washed it down with pumpkin juice, furtively peeking at the headmaster over the rim of her goblet.

Severus was looking straight ahead, his face was still impassive as ever, yet she noticed the slightest tick in his jaw. Randy was still incessantly prattling on between bites of his meal, and Hermione wondered if it was causing Severus to clench his teeth.

Hermione decided that being pointedly ignored by Severus felt worse than being subjected to his intense scrutiny. When dinner was finally over with, she politely - yet swiftly as possible - made her way away from the table and off the dais. Hermione had walked all of three steps before she was instantly accosted by Ginny.

"Don't worry, Mum. I ate all of my vegetables," she told her sarcastically.

"Oh hush," Ginny snapped. "You've been a bit off the past few weeks and I reckon it's because of your exam. You shouldn't worry yourself. You're going to do fine."

Hermione was worrisome by nature, but knew that her upcoming exam wasn't the cause of her tension at the moment. Ginny, however, was unaware of that fact.

"I know, Gin. You're right. Thank you," she said, eager to be left alone. "I'll see you and Luna at breakfast tomorrow morning."

Ginny's eyes were still narrowed at her friend but she was placated and soon walked away. Heaving a sigh, Hermione continued on, desperate for the privacy of her room.

Hermione hastily stripped out of her apprentice robes, tossing them to floor as if they'd personally insulted her. She proceeded to take a long, hot shower, eager to melt her tension away. Feeling marginally better after stepping from beneath the water, Hermione took her time toweling the moisture off, rubbing on body cream and pulling on pajamas.

Hermione walked out of her lavatory, wand in one hand and the other finger combing the tangles out of her curls. She reeled and stumbled in fright, dropping her wand when she noticed the tall, still figure of a man perched by her armchair.

When Hermione finally stopped screaming, her words came out in an enraged sputter.

"What the devil, Severus!" she shrieked, snatching her wand up off the floor. "First you give me the cold shoulder, and now you nearly scare me into a coronary! Have you come to deliberately ignore me again?"

Roughly grabbing a wide tooth comb from the side table, Hermione perched herself at the edge of her bed, nearly attacking her curls with the implement.

"Why didn't you come to my room after dinner?" he asked.

"Why do you think?" Hermione snapped. "Your behavior was positively abominable to me this afternoon! Why should I subject myself to that for any longer than necessary?"

"Are you sure that's the reason? You weren't so fast to avoid my chambers the other night when you came apart with me between your legs. Is that it, Hermione? You can't have what you want, when you want it, so you run to the next bloke?"

Hermione's mouth fell slack in total disbelief, her brown eyes flashing angrily and face flushing red. "What did you just say to me?" she hissed, her hands pausing.

"You heard me, you little chit. You and Mister Sunderland looked quite cozy this afternoon. Did your Potions Master and I interrupt your little tête-à-tête?"

Severus was answered by Hermione's blue, plastic comb whizzing past his ear. She barely had time to rethink her actions when there was a blur of black in the room. One minute Severus was standing across from her, the next he was atop of her body, holding her in place.

"Let me go!" she yelled when Severus' hands firmly clamped down on both shoulders, pressing her into the mattress.

"How dare you throw anything at me!" he fumed, his black eyes glittering.

"How dare I? How dare you! You barge into my room, insinuate that I'm a whore and accuse me of flirting with that loathsome man! Damn you! LET ME GO!"

Despite Severus' ironclad hold on her, Hermione was still writhing and kicking beneath him, completely riled with fury. She was too upset to even think about crying, intent on striking the man to cause him pain just like he'd done to her.

"You snarky bastard!" she grumbled, still kicking.

Severus easily captured her writhing limbs between stronger thighs, immobilizing the lower half of her body.

"I told you that I wanted you and no other!"Hermione yelled in his face, seemingly having no fear of the man looming over her."But if you're going to turn into a raving lunatic every time one of these idiots breathes in my direction then you might as well leave me be! I have no qualms with being the lonely, dotty old cat lady with the moth eaten coat and a house full of books, because I'll be damned if I'm going to put up with this shite from you or anyone else!"

Hermione's chest was heaving from exertion, her face still red. Her words seemed to have some effect on Severus as he still glowered at her but released his grip.

Hermione instantly sat up on the bed, snatching her wand up and pointing it at the dark wizard.

"Are you planning on hexing me now?" Severus drawled with a smirk, his hand not even flinching to withdraw his own wand.

"Actually I was considering using it to thump you over that thick head of yours," she snapped. "But I'd be highly upset if I broke my wand. I've had it since first coming here and I'm rather attached to it. Although even a hex is far too kind a punishment for that wretched behavior you've just displayed."

"Miss Granger, when it comes to me, your hex would never meet its mark," he easily replied.

"What the hell is your problem?" Hermione seethed, daunted yet still fuming over his callous words. "Aren't you the one always going on about reacting rashly to things? Control your emotions and all that?"

Hermione tossed her wand down on the bed beside her, exhaling sharply and rubbing her forehead.

"Severus," she began more calmly, looking up to see him peering at her intently, his arms folded across his chest. "I know that you are a fiercely private man, - one that doesn't trust or forgive easily. Now those are things that I'm willing to accept and hopefully help you to get past. But this? What just happened is not all right."

Severus was still stiffly standing in place, yet appeared to be actively listening.

"Now, I might sound insane saying this, but I actually find your sardonic humor and witty repartee endearing. Hell, even that perpetual sour look on your face is attractive. But when I tell you that if you so much as ever hurt me again the way you did tonight, I don't care if it takes me a month, a year or the rest of my life, I can and will find a way to repay the favor."

"You are absolutely correct. I apologize," Severus said after a while.

Hermione's features were still pinched into a frown, but she gestured for him to come sit on the bed with her. Once he was next to her, Hermione pushed him to lie down on the bed and straddled his waist.

Leaning forward onto his body, she slid her hand into his soft hair, pressing her fingertips into his scalp the way he liked. Hermione felt his body relax beneath hers, but she was far from done.

"Severus, where's your wand?"

He'd closed his eyes, enjoying the attention lavished on his head when Hermione spoke.

"Why?" he asked, his dark eyes now looking up at her.

"Because I need it," she replied without offering further explanation, removing her hand from his head.

Severus never let anyone hold, or so much as touch, his wand as a general rule. Yet he found himself digging into his inner frock coat pocket and handing it over.

Hermione's slim fingers closed around the intricately carved handle, as she proceeded to admire the smooth, polished length of ebony wood.

Severus watched as the young witch sitting atop his body thoroughly examined every inch of his wand. She then turned it around, the carved handle sticking out of her hand before she brought it down and thwacked it across the top of Severus' head, causing him to bellow loudly.

"What the devil is wrong with you?" he fumed, his hand instantly coming up to the injured spot.

"Oh, don't give me that. You know full well you deserved it!" she snapped, handing the wand back to him. "How dare you call me a whore?"

Severus snatched his wand back, shoving it back into its holding place. "Dammit witch, I said I was sorry!" he groused, his face marginally softening. "But I deserved it. That comment was completely out of order."

"Hmph."

"Might I add -like you- I've also had my wand since I was eleven. Were you intent on destroying it?"

"I wasn't planning on hitting you that hard," Hermione said reassuringly. "Just hard enough to prove a point. You should think of it as reparations, especially considering the hell you gave me throughout a large portion of my childhood."

"If you want to clutch at straws, at least have the decency to admit that some of my wrath was warranted," Severus told her.

"I will do no such thing," Hermione replied, moving off of Severus and sitting cross-legged next to him. "Are you planning on sleeping in your suit?"

"After my little display, I didn't think I would be welcome to stay. Going to let me worm my way back into your good graces are you?"

"I might. Although, perhaps you should consider sleeping with one eye open."

Severus smiled wryly at the precipitous little witch, sitting on her bed, swallowed in an oversized light blue pajama set and casually issuing threats.

"You are certainly headstrong. I'll give you that," he told her, withdrawing his wand and using it to conjure his pajamas.

Severus wouldn't admit it out loud, but he knew that he'd behaved like an arse when he stormed out of the Floo, riled up and ready to pick a strop. He was surprised when Hermione showed no signs of apprehension, merely throwing her anger back into his face.

Furthermore, instead of harping on the fact that he was the wrong one, she calmly assuaged him by pointing out his flaws, all the while saying that she accepted them nonetheless.

He was the older one yet she managed to neatly put him into his place without making him defensive in the process. To say that he was shocked was putting it mildly.

Hermione shoved her wand under her pillow before crawling beneath her duvet. Closing her eyes, she waited for Severus to join her in the bed. She sighed contentedly once he was against her, his arms wrapped firmly around her waist.

Severus wandlessly turned the lamps out in Hermione's room, guiding her to turn around and face him. Burying her face in his chest, she deeply breathed in his scent.

"I could smell you at dinner," she said. "You smell entirely too good, and I was furious at you. I wanted to reach across McGonagall and throw my entire plate of mash at your head."

"Do you mean the dinner that you merely picked at instead of eating?"

"How would you know that? You never looked at me once throughout the entire meal."

"So it would appear to you," Severus replied, his hand slipping beneath the back of Hermione's top and stroking her skin. "I also noticed Miss Weasley glaring at you. She appeared a bit put out,"

"Ginny," Hermione spat her friend's name as if it was a swear word. "She literally dragged me to dinner, thinking that I was stressed out about my upcoming exam and insisting that I needed to eat. I swear she's becoming more and more like Molly every day."

Severus silently agreed. Whenever he'd attended meetings for the Order, Molly would always force a meal down his throat, insisting that he was too thin and peaky. He would grumble as he hated being fussed over as if he was a child, but would almost always acquiesce. Molly's culinary skills were something to be appreciated.

"Severus?" Hermione asked, her voice now sounding full of lassitude.

"Yes?"

"Would I get in a terrible amount of trouble if I used the Langlock jinx on one of the staff?"

Severus released a deep, rumbling laugh that slightly shook Hermione's frame. "Now you know that I'm unable to condone that sort of behavior," he said.

"Darn," she mumbled into his chest.

"Although you're well versed in nonverbal incantations; one cannot be punished for something that another is unable to prove."

Hermione's smiled at the image of Professor Sunderland, babbling away and then becoming shock as his tongue became affixed to the roof of his mouth.

"I'll keep that in mind," she murmured sleepily, her body melting into Severus' as his warm fingers continued tracing over her skin.
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Broken Dreams