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Unintentional Inveiglement	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 130116 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and it's characters and making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
A/N: As always, thank you for the lovely comments and feedback! ;)

**

A month had gone by since school was in session, and still, things remained the same between Hermione and the newly appointed Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

During one particularly interesting class, Hermione had grown almost excited by the prospect of serving detention with Snape, a notion that truly made her question her sanity.

It seemed as if half the class had been either daydreaming or kipping over their open textbooks, as no one raised a hand to answer the professor when he began asking questions. Like always, Hermione had been unable to control her tongue, especially since she knew the answer to every question.

It was no rare thing for Snape to ignore her whenever her hand shot up, so the class hadn't paid any mind when Hermione's arm waved about in the air, only for it to remain there for several minutes. The answer to Snape's question had been right on the tip of her tongue, each word practically burning into the back of her tightly clamped lips. Wanting to prove herself had nothing to do with their previous intimate moments; Hermione really did know the answer, and it was killing her to keep quiet.

Finally, she blurted out her response, practically shouting the answer, when Snape swiftly deducted five points from Gryffindor and assigned her detention for 'a severe lack of restraint', as he delicately phrased it. A few of the more aware Slytherin students in the room sniggered at what they believed to be Hermione's misfortune, while a majority of the class barely registered what had just happened. Only Ron, Harry, and Neville, shot Hermione, whose face had gone beet-red, looks that held a mixture of sympathy and shock.

It took a long time for the flush of embarrassment to fade from her cheeks. Right as she was on her way out of the classroom door, Snape told Hermione, without looking at her, that she would serve her detention the upcoming weekend. She had then attempted to wait to see if the professor had anything more to say. When he remained standing with his back to her, methodically using his wand to clear his scribbling from the chalkboard, Hermione gave up hope and finally took her leave.

That Saturday morning, she went down to Snape's classroom on pins and needles, flustered that she was going to be alone in his presence, and by the fact that she didn't know what to expect. Ergo, she was highly disappointed when she met with not Snape, but Filch and Mrs Norris, at the entrance of the classroom. The red-eyed snarling cat stalked about his owner's grimy trouser-covered ankles, hissing up at the witch.

It was all Hermione could do to not cry out in disappointment.

Filch was ornery, and she didn't expect for that to change. It was the idea that, once again, Hermione knew Snape was artfully dodging her presence, as he'd pushed her off to someone else to serve her detention. She fought back tears the entire time as she walked behind Filch, who hobbled his way out of the castle and into the oddly bright sunshine. The only thing that marginally cheered her up was when the caretaker led her over to Hagrid's hut, where he rapped his bony, wiry hair-covered knuckles on the faded wooden door.

Hagrid came outside, all smiles as he took in the sight of Hermione. Filch growled in his way and left the young witch on the crumbling stone doorstep, the caretaker crooning to his cat in a croaky voice as the pair walked back up to the school.

Hagrid was surprised that Hermione, of all people, had detention, until she explained that Snape was the one to assign it. Even her Head of House had gone wide-eyed with shock when she learnt about the detention, and sighed in exasperation before sending Hermione on her way. McGongall had never even given Hermione detention. The young Gryffindor had never actually been given one throughout her entire school career, unless they counted the one with Umbridge the previous year.

All in all, her time with Hagrid wasn't bad. He merely asked Hermione to help him dig up flobberworms, which took all of forty-five minutes. Afterwards, he invited her into his hut for tea and some of his, unknown to him, notoriously horrible yet lovingly baked, goods. Fang had been perched in front of the hearth, and gave a lazy 'woof' when he saw Hermione. She sat down, and politely declined the offer of the scones, which were large as Frisbees and hard as the stones that littered the vegetable patch in his garden, yet she did accept the oversized cup of tea.

Once she was finished, Hagrid walked her back up to the castle, all the while cheerfully reminiscing over the mischievous things that she and her best friends had gotten into when they first came to Hogwarts. Hermione laughed, in spite of herself, and thanked Hagrid before he turned to go back down the hill.

"I still can't believe Miss Perfect Prefect, Hermione Granger, got detention!" Ron jeered once she had gone back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled. The room was empty, as their classmates were either taking advantage of the unseasonably mild weather, or off enjoying their treats that had been purchased on the weekend excursion to Hogsmeade.

Hermione hadn't been in the mood to do anything but sit down and brood. She was in the middle of using her wand to siphon the remaining bits of dirt from beneath her fingernails when Ron and Harry flopped down on the sofa next to her. Both boys had flushed faces as if they'd been running and looked positively jubilant.

"Here, Hermione," Harry said, reaching across Ron to hand her a small bag. "We bought you that, seeing as you were unable to come with."

Hermione smiled and put down her wand, taking the little brown bag that had Honeydukes embossed on the front in fancy gold lettering.

"Thanks, you two," she grinned, knowing that the bag contained her favourite chocolate. The sweets couldn't have come at a better time, as her monthly was right around the corner. And while Hermione had never been big on a lot of sugary things, once a month she succumbed and satisfied her craving for cocoa.

"Harry said that if we bought you chocolate, then perhaps you wouldn't bite our heads off," Ron told her off-handedly, earning an fierce narrow-eyed scowl from the witch.

"He's lying, Hermione," Harry said hastily, reaching across her to shove Ron. "Ron is the one that said—" He was cut short, noticing the expectant look on Hermione's face. "Err...think I'll shut up now."

"Good idea, mate," Ron cheekily replied. "Anyway, how was detention? What did the greasy git have you do? I still can't believe he gave you detention."

"I didn't serve detention with Professor Snape," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes at the mention of the rude nickname. "Well, rather, he had me serve it with Hagrid. I helped him dig up flobberworms and then we had tea."

"Uh oh, do you still have all your teeth?" Harry asked, remembering Hagrid's penchant for his rock-hard cakes.

Ron had once suggested that Hagrid could whip up a batch of mashed potatoes, and that somehow they would still probably turn out to have the consistency of a boulder. Harry and Hermione became hysterical at the comment, and although they knew Hagrid that meant well, it was true that his cooking and baking skills left much to be desired.

"I only had tea," Hermione giggled. "I think I've had enough incidents with my teeth to last me. And knowing Mum and Dad, they'd insist that I come home so they can fix them instead of letting Madam Pomfrey do so with her wand. No, thank you, I'd rather not miss classes."

"We know, you little swot," Ron yawned, stretching his long arms over his head before settling them along the back of the sofa. "That's what got you detention in the first place."

"Oh, leave me alone," Hermione fussed, hissing in discomfort when Ron's forearm landed right on top of her hair and pulled it at the roots. "Where's Ginny? And Lav-Lav?" she asked, pushing at his arm and extricating the tautly pulled strands from beneath it.

"I think Ginny and Luna are together," Harry answered. "Oh, and Neville. They were with us at Hogsmeade, and then we left them when we decided to come back here. No idea where Lav-Lav is, though," he continued, grinning when Ron scowled at him.

Hermione nodded in comprehension, suddenly distracted by the bag of chocolate in her lap. She tugged the gold ribbons apart and withdrew a piece, placing it in her mouth and nearly swooning when it melted on her tongue. Ron reached around her and tried to surreptitiously pluck a piece from the bag, yelping when Hermione swatted him on the hand.

"Get your own chocolate."

"Ron, you're mad," Harry told him. "Do you know that you never get between a witch and her chocolate? Not unless you want to draw back a nub."

"Oh yeah?" Ron jeered. "And since when did you become an expert on witches and their sweets?"

"Ever since I bought Ginny a bag of Honeydukes and tried to sneak a piece. Let's just say that your sister is much faster with a wand than she lets onto. Two words. Never. Again."

Hermione laughed as she stood up from the sofa, gesturing to Harry with a half moon-shaped piece of bitten chocolate before completely shoving it into her mouth. "Sage advice; everyone should listen to you. You'll go far in life, Mr Potter," she told him in a mock baritone before turning to go up to the dormitory.

The rest of her Saturday passed by uneventfully. Most of Sunday also went by in a similar fashion, only instead of using her afternoon to dig up flobberworms, Hermione, along with a few of her housemates, used the time to study. Ron had been more interested in his latest Quidditch magazine, which had been purchased the day before in Hogsmeade, and balked when Hermione suggested that he get a head start on their essay that Snape had assigned.

"But it's not due till Friday!" he protested.

"Fine, then don't do it," Hermione shot back. "But I'm telling you— if you decide to wait till the last minute, don't come running to me for help."

"Alright, I won't run; I promise to walk, very, very slowly. I'll move slow enough to make even a snail go 'bloody hell! Move it along, will you!'"

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione giggled. He really could be silly at times.

Ginny, Neville, and Harry were also nearby, and laughed when they heard Ron's promise. Hermione had frowned when she saw the defaced Potions book in Harry's lap, staring at it disapprovingly until Harry noticed her and shot back a defiant glare. Ginny had caught Hermione's narrowed eyes, and shook her head before returning to her own work.

Lavender eventually came into the Common Room with Parvati on her trail, and the blonde witch wasted no time before she tugged Ron off the sofa and out of the room, most likely in aims of finding a nice, dark corner to kiss in.

Parvati took it upon herself to drop down onto the sofa next to Hermione, looking longingly at the couple that was making their way out through the narrow portrait hole. She flipped her long hair over one shoulder, paying no attention to Harry, who was still at the other end of the sofa.

"I hate feeling like the third wheel," Parvati said mournfully, her brown eyes still focused on the spot where Ron and Lavender had just been standing. "It's so...sad."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. Parvati Patil hadn't been exactly polite when it came to her, since... ever, and the last thing Hermione felt like doing was playing nice. But if it meant that the witch would shut up so she could finish her homework, then so be it.

"You know, a boyfriend is not the be all and end all," Hermione told her. "There are loads of other things you can focus on."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" the dark-haired witch challenged, now dubiously looking at Hermione.

"Well..." Hermione trailed off, searchingly looking around the room for a minute. She briefly caught Harry's eye, and noticed that he was pressing himself into the sofa cushions, as if he wanted to disappear right through them."I mean, you have your schoolwork to focus on, and you have your friends. There's always something for you to occupy your time with."

"Is that so? Like what, a pet?"

Just then, Crookshanks appeared out of nowhere and leapt onto the sofa and curled up next to Hermione. The ginger kneazle gave an appreciate purr when Hermione began scratching the top of his furry head.

"Yeah, I suppose," Hermione replied. "If you like cats or another sort of animal. Taking care of one will give you something to do."

Parvati sighed as she watched Hermione stroking the cat's fur. "I envy you, you know. Life is so simple, so uncomplicated for you. Well, I'm glad that you're able to not go around with a bloke, but all of us aren't like that."

Hermione's hand paused over Crookshanks as she tried to decipher just what it was that Parvati was indelicately getting at. "Pardon?"

"Well, I just mean that, well...you have your books and all. You don't care about boys and boyfriends and going to Hogsmeade on your own."

"I don't go to Hogsmeade on my own; I go with Ron and Harry, and even Luna and Ginny! Hell, even Neville comes round with us!" Hermione shot back. Neville's head popped up at the mention of his name, but when neither witch turned his way, he carried on scribbling on the parchment in front of him.

"That's not what I mean, Hermione," Parvati said, shaking her head. "I meant a boyfriend, a real boyfriend. Harry's got Ginny, and Lavender's got Ron. Even that Loony girl and Neville have got something going on."

Neville looked up once more, this time with a slight frown. Harry had his Potions textbook opened on his lap and was intently peering down at it, although Hermione could have sworn that she saw his bright green eyes rolling behind his glasses.

"Her name's Luna," Ginny said crisply from across the room. "Luna Lovegood."

"Sorry, Luna," Parvati amended in a tone that didn't sound as if she was genuinely sorry. "Anyway, you know what I mean. Like I said— I'm a third wheel, and I hate it."

The more she listened to Parvati's vacuous banter, the more Hermione swore that she could literally feel her IQ dropping. She was half tempted to offer the witch a few pieces of her chocolate, purely to keep her from talking any more.

"Right. Well, I'm sure you'll find...someone," Hermione reassured, suddenly desperate to gather her things and get away.

Crookshanks looked affronted when she abruptly moved from next to him, and he slid down off the sofa with a feline air of contempt. Harry had also looked up at Hermione, his eyes silently pleading for her to not leave him alone with the still chattering Parvati.

Hermione smirked at Harry, shooting back a look that said ignore her. She urged her cat to follow her up to the dormitory, ignoring the curious look Parvati was now throwing in her direction. Patience, give me patience, she told herself. I must be wearing a daft magnet today. Yes, that's it, because there is no other feasible explanation for that!

Hermione had nearly been too nervous to come out of the dormitory when it was time for supper. Ginny had to cajole her out from behind the safety of her bed curtains, laughter colouring her voice while she assured Hermione that Parvati and Lav-Lav were nowhere around.

"Thank goodness!" Hermione exclaimed as she put on her trainers and a thick jumper. "I was hoping that Parvati would shut up, but no, she just kept right on talking. I swear, my brain went numb for a minute."

"Seamus said the same thing about her once; said that maybe if she did have someone to snog, then maybe she would do less talking. Of course, he volunteered Dean to go up to her, and Dean told him to piss off."

"Oh no," Hermione cringed. "That's funny, but still, it's sort of mean."

"Yeah, well," Ginny shrugged. "Hurry up! I'm hungry, and Ron and Harry probably already left us because you're taking too long."

"Oh, please. I could have been down there early and still Ron would have been to dinner before he dishes were even sent out."

Ginny told Hermione that she had a point, but still continue to rush her. Ron and Harry were already on their second helpings of dinner by the time the girls walked into the Great Hall and took their seats.

Hermione didn't have much of an appetite to begin with, and only put a small amount of food onto her place. She had just picked up a piece of bread and was slathering butter onto it when she looked towards the staff dais, and was mildly disappointed to find an empty space next to McGonagall where Snape usually sat.

She was surprised to feel glum by his absence, and turned her attention back to the Gryffindor table. Methodically picking her bread apart into tiny shreds, Hermione nibbled on each bit, distractedly listening to the chatter going on around her. She had just began working on her chicken leg in the same manner, tearing the flesh into evenly sized strips when she felt eyes on her. Peering across Ginny's head and down the table, Hermione saw that McClaggen was staring at her in that creepy way of his, which always made her skin crawl.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Ron asked after swallowing a large mouthful of chicken. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah, the ghost of hot-in-the-trousers past," Hermione grumbled.

Ron had just taken another bite and stopped chewing, trying to figure out what the hell Hermione was talking about, but Harry instantly picked up on her sarcasm and guffawed when he looked down the table to find McClaggen staring back in their direction.

"Hmm, pesticide. I think that's what you need," Harry suggested, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "And to think; Parvati Patil was going on and on about you not having a boyfriend."

"Harry Potter, if you ever use the word 'boyfriend' while talking about that churlish little troll down at the other end, I'll hex your nads off."

"Now that's just not right!" Ron cringed, doubling over on the bench. "I wouldn't want to be you, mate."

Hermione smirked at both boys. She finally gave up playing with her chicken, and finished the rest of her decimated bread. She was on the verge of a premenstrual headache, and suddenly had the urge to go back to the dormitory and lie down while it was still quiet.

"I'm going back up," she said, draining the remains of pumpkin juice from her goblet and getting up from the table.

"You barely took two bites of dinner; are you finished already?" Ron frowned, looking at her abandoned mountain of shredded chicken and bread crumbs.

"Yes, Dad," she shot back. "Unless you're going to get on me for not finishing my milk or eating my peas."

"That's right: punishment! No library for a week!"

Hermione pretended to be shocked, gasping and covering her mouth with one hand. "Well! Never in my life."

Ron continued smirking, his and Hermione's conversation interrupting by a giggling Lavender, who had just walked over and sat down next to the redhead.

"Alright," Hermione told him, knowing that that was her cue to leave. "I'll see you lot back upstairs."

Ron waved to Hermione, now awkwardly trying to shove custard into his mouth with Lavender's pink-tipped fingers wrapped about his right bicep. Hermione walked around the bench to where Harry was sitting, playfully poking him in the back when she saw him bow his head to pretend to be enthralled by his own dish of custard.

The stirrings of a headache was only part of the reason Hermione wanted to get out of the Great Hall. The other was that since Snape wasn't present, she didn't have a reason to stick around. She wasn't hungry, nor in the mood to listen to everyone yammering on around her head. To boot, McClaggen made her feel dirty at the way his eyeballs remained glued to the front of her jumper, despite the fact that it was bulky and concealed most of her breasts.

Folding her arms tightly across her chest and striding down the long walkway, all the while pretending that the obvious seventh year wizard wasn't staring at her, Hermione made her way out into the quieter entrance hall.

The cacophony of students eating and talking grew into a faint buzzing the further Hermione walked away from the wide opened doors of the Great Hall. The paintings lining the walls looked as if they were all on the verge of falling asleep, and she took care to not make any noise. Hermione would have gone straight up to the dormitory, only the sight of the brilliantly lit night sky right outside of the stone arches further down the corridor made her pause.

The cool breeze was refreshing, and between that and the silence, her headache began to subside. Not in any rush, Hermione sat in between the widely spaced pillars, deciding to take in a breather before turning in for the evening.

While it was true that she loved reading and could have spent all of her time doing so, Hermione enjoyed merely sitting and doing absolutely nothing sometimes, so long as the nothing entail her sitting quietly in the outdoors. As it was, she was partially outside, as she was near the opened corridor that led directly outside to the rose garden.

The view of the moon was entrancing, and Hermione found herself perched in place for quite some time. Should have brought my cloak, she thought as she began shivering, as her jumper wasn't suitable protection against the bracing air.

Hermione tucked her arms firmly around her body, refusing to move from her spot. She was so taken by the serenity of everything that she nearly missed the person that had almost completely walked past her. She would have let them continue on without calling attention to herself, only she caught sight of a billowing cloak, and threw caution to the wind before speaking.

"So is that it, then? You're going to continue on ignoring me like this?" she called down the hall.

Snape evenly exhaled. He had nearly made it all the way past Hermione, when somehow, she noticed him.

He was tired, and ready to return to his room. Snape hadn't gone to dinner, purely because he had been in the midst of trailing behind Draco all day. He had a niggling suspicion that the young Slytherin was up to something, and was doing everything in his power to keep the boy from making any serious mistakes. Of course, that led to Snape giving up the little bit of free time he'd had that evening, as well as missing dinner. The latter hadn't mattered; he had a late yet hasty lunch in his rooms, and had no appetite when dinnertime came around.

The only reason he came the way he did was because he'd heard Filch in passing, back near the Great Hall, grumbling under his breath about students roaming the castles at whim, with no one saying anything to them. Snape had been looking forward to catching someone to assign detention to, and silently cursed when he saw the familiar outline of delicate feminine features, illuminated by pale moonlight in the otherwise darkened corridor.

He knew that button nose and lips anywhere, not to mention the mass of curls that resembled an u-manicured bush. As far as Hermione's slender frame...she'd been hunched over, sitting between the pillars, looking as if she had been trying to keep warm. With or without her shapeless school robes, he was well acquainted with Hermione's slight frame, and could have been blindfolded and put in a room with her, and still would have been able to decipher her by touch alone.

That is the last thing you need to be thinking about right now, he told himself.

"Miss Granger. I suppose one detention wasn't enough; might I need to give you another?"

"I don't know why you would give me one now; I haven't done anything wrong."

Hermione was frowning, although she had turned back to continue staring up at the sky. Something told her to not look directly at Severus, that if she did, he might ignore her and walk away like he had before.

"I'm well aware of your Prefect status, although, seeing as how you don't have that daft freckle-faced boy with you, it leads me to believe that you are not, in fact, in the midst of Prefect duty. So, again I ask, are you trying to land yourself with another detention for wandering the corridors on your own?"

Hermione brushed her curls out of her face, closing her eyes and shaking her head in disbelief. Was this the same man that she previously shared herself with? Was this the wizard that shared a bed with her at Grimmauld Place?

No, she told herself, bitterly. That man was Severus Snape; hence, the word, man. This is Professor Snape, formerly your Potions teacher and now Defence Against the Dark Arts, the very professor that's been giving you hell since you were eleven. I told you that nothing would change; are you really that surprised?

So much for a crumbling resolve. Whatever barriers she had managed to inch her way through a mere three months ago, clearly had been set back in place, and reinforced by a steely resolve. It was as if the two had never spent time with one another, as if they were two ships that once passed in the night. Even that thought was absurd; Snape had never gone out of his way to acknowledge her in the past. Whenever they had crossed paths, he'd either stared her down until she moved out of his way, or brushed right past her.

But in light of everything that transpired, and the way he was acting now? Hermione wished that she could go back to merely being ignored. She was unable to lie to herself: it hurt. It hurt to have the very man that held tightly onto her as she fell asleep next to him in bed, now treat her with quiet disdain. Only it wasn't quite disdain; more like indifference. What was even worse, was that he was treating her like he would any other student, save for his precious Slytherins. They always garnered a bit more respect from their Head of House.

"On your way, Miss Granger."

Hermione knew better than to go against the professor. Uncurling herself from the narrow opening, she slid out of place and stood up, stretching to rid of herself of the pins and needles in her leg that came from sitting cramped in one position for too long. Snape had obviously changed his mind about giving her detention, as he turned to walk away without uttering another word.

"Sir, wait!" she blurted out, cursing the weak sensation in her left leg as she awkwardly rushed over to the professor.

Snape had been halfway down the corridor when he stopped walking, causing his black teaching robes to swirl around his body from the abrupt halt. Arms still wrapped around her torso, Hermione slowly walked over to the professor, as if she were approaching a spooked horse. He remained stock-still, both of them now enfolded in a shadowed niche near the wall.

His buttoned up suit might as well have been a suit of armor, the way Snape staunchly stood before her with his arms also folded across his chest. His stance nearly looked defensive, and Hermione wondered if it was her that the professor was trying to protect himself from. Wanting to test her theory, she tentatively reached one hand out, only for the wizard to step back out of her clutches.

Hermione raised both eyebrows, yet she let her hand drop back down. "Why did you make me serve detention with Filch?" she demanded.

Snape surveyed the young witch for a moment, his black eyes glittering strangely in the dark. "Why do you think?" he shot back after a while.

"I'm not going to get you sacked, you know," she answered in a softer tone. "I wouldn't do that."

"It's not a matter of what you would or wouldn't do," Snape replied. "But you and I both know that there are other words that are more suitable: in apropos, improper—"

"Oh, favourable of words beginning with the letter 'I'?"

"Impudent; there's another one for you. However, if you'd like, I can think of a word beginning with the letter 'P'— prudence, Miss Granger, something that you are in sore need of exercising."

Hermione felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her head when she heard her last name. Only Snape could make her blood boil by the sound of her own name. The timbre of his deep voice tickling her ears, combined with his scent that she hadn't been able to become re-familiarised with, also grated her already agitated nerves.

It was utter madness to become cross with someone for the tone of their voice, or the scent of their skin. Yet Hermione didn't care; she wanted to stamp her foot in frustration, and yell that she didn't give a damn about bring prudent. Just when her body had started becoming accustomed to having regular sex, through no choice of her own, it came to an abrupt end.

It wasn't as if she could just forget about everything. Her mind wouldn't let her, and her body also adamantly refused to cooperate. More than once she'd found herself becoming dizzy at the very thought of the mind-blowing orgasms she had experienced at Snape's hand; there was no likely way she could push that out of her mind anytime soon.

Taking into account that her cycle was due, Hermione's hormones had been racing like a thoroughbred trying to win a derby. More than once that week, she found herself on the verge of climbing the walls with the need of having her itch scratched. Only a certain professor with callused yet nimble hands was being difficult, and had been refusing to so much as look her in the eye.

Hermione was unaware of the harried look on her face, or if she was, she made no moves to hide it. She had been inching her way closer to Severus, until their chests were nearly touching.

Snape wondered if the girl had truly gone off her rocker when she moved in close enough that he was able to smell the clean, familiar scent of her skin. Her personal fragrance had been more ardent when she was naked, and instantly he was reminded of Hermione's bare curves laid out across his bed, her soft thighs draped over his.

Another apposite word suddenly came to the professor's mind: prurient. As in, he was tempted to grasp the edge of Hermione's bulky jumper and none-too-gently pull her along with him until they reached his room in the dungeons. After that, he wouldn't let up until she begged him to.

Just when he was hoping that the headstrong witch wouldn't do anything, Hermione stood up on tiptoe and moved her face towards his. Even though they were in a darkened hallway that was absent of ghosts or nosey paintings, and miraculously, no students or staff walking about, the last thing Snape needed was for him and Hermione to engage in anything other than what would be deemed appropriate for a student and professor.

It still didn't change the fact that he was tempted to shove the young witch against the wall and press the length of his body into hers.

Snape was nearly on the verge of temporarily abandoning his better senses, purely to assuage the baser ones, when propriety kicked back in.

Hermione let out a soft grunt of surprise when she was suddenly shifted away from the wizard, trapped between him and the uneven wall. It had been too tempting to not try and kiss Severus, seeing as how they were completely alone with no distractions. One second she'd been leaning up and moving in, the next, his hands shot out and swiftly pressed against her shoulders, and she stumbled backwards and would have fallen had he not kept a firm grip on her body.

"Have you lost your mind?" Snape asked tightly. While his tone was hushed, the suppressed fury in his voice was evident, and Hermione immediately knew that she had crossed the line.

"I-I'm—" she stammered nervously, slumping back against the wall. Severus was hovered right over her, and even though she could barely make out his gaunt features, she could feel warm air coming from his nose as he huffed angrily.

Little did Hermione know, but it wasn't she who Severus was upset with. He was mad at himself for not walking away when he first encountered Hermione in the abandoned corridor; he was mad that he had been tempted to kiss and touch her for the past five minutes, and he was mad for what he knew he was about to do.

It didn't help his cause when he brought one hand up to Hermione's face and curved his potions-marred fingers around her cheek, the young woman's eyes to fluttering closed as she melted into his touch. Severus was able to see her clearly despite the heavily shadowed area, and extended his thumb to brush it across her petal-soft bottom lip.

Merlin, help me! Hermione thought frantically, as she was unable to help herself. She reactively parted her lips when Severus touched her, wishing that he would press one digit inside. It seemed almost too much to expect a kiss; nonetheless, she kept hope alive. Her entire body felt aflame, even though Severus had left just enough space between them, keeping their bodies from fully touching.

Hermione was sure that she was behaving like a witch that had never been kissed, her anticipation so great that it took the form of trembling in her knees. If only Snape would move closer. He was right there, close enough for Hermione to brush the tip of her nose against the buttons on his frock coat, yet his face remained far enough that she would have had to wrap both arms around his shoulders and hoist herself up to plant her lips against his. And that wasn't likely; she was sure if she attempted such a thing, that Snape would bodily remove her from his person.

But the suspense was killing her. It no longer mattered that they were in the middle of an abandoned corridor in Hogwarts, or that he was her professor and nineteen years her senior; all Hermione wanted was the man who was responsible for her sexual awakening, the wizard that had continuously rearranged her head without the use of wand or spell.

Long fingers slid down from Hermione's cheek and settled around her neck, gently stroking and cupping the skin there. Shivering as she broke out into goose bumps, she tipped her head to the side, nearly forgetting that she still wanted to be kissed. She was sure that Snape was about to get down off his high horse and cave in, as he had moved in closer, until the end of his hooked nose was nearly buried in her curls.

Hermione didn't know why she chose to keep her hands at her sides, even though her palms were itching to move and grasp onto the front of Severus' frock coat. The heat from his breath continued brushing against the bridge of her nose, and his thumb caressed the notch at the base of her throat.

Feeling almost triumphant as Snape's other hand cautiously moved to her side, Hermione bit back a moan when his fingertips toyed with the hem of her jumper, raising it high enough for her to feel cool air grazing her skin. Cold met with hot as Snape's fingertips strayed over the curve of her hip, never daring to move further than the waistband of her jeans.

Letting out a quiet moan, Hermione reached out to wrap her arms around Snape, only for him to growl in displeasure. She dug her fingers into the stiff denim covering her legs, knowing it was the only way she could maintain some sort of control over her hands. It still didn't stop her from tossing her head, licking her lips as she pushed herself up against the wall, clamoring for the wizard to kiss her.

Lank black hair hung in her face and tickled her eyelids, and Snape's lips and nose were just at the vicinity of her right cheek. She swore that she heard him inhale sharply, but was too distracted by the languidly moving fingers that were still beneath her jumper.

Snape continued touching her in a hesitant manner, as if he wanted to do more, but was unsure if the advances would be welcomed. Hermione wanted to scream that they bloody well were welcome, that he could strip her and take her against the wall right then and there, to hell with anyone that may pass by.

Despite the risk of Snape hexing her, Hermione threw herself against the wizard, embracing the hard round buttons lining the front of his suit that pressed into her skin. She had just parted her lips and was intent on making Severus kiss her when a familiar snarl echoed through a not-so-distant corridor. The noise startled them both, although Hermione was the only one to visibly flinch.

"Don't roam the castle alone at night; I won't tell you again," Snape suddenly threatened in a low tone as his fingers tightened beneath her chin, a split second later hastily pulling away from Hermione as if a current had been sent throughout his body, causing the witch to scramble awkwardly to keep from falling. He then stalked off in the direction of the snarling voice, black robes billowing in his wake, leaving Hermione alone and confused in the darkened alcove.

Hermione had grown breathless, and it took her a long time to calm her aroused body. She swore that she could still feel those buttons pressing into her skin, and warm air from the way Severus' mouth almost came against hers, yet fell short. Her hip tingled where the wizard had touched seconds before, and the rest of her body felt flushed and uncomfortable.

There was no way she could return to the Common Room at that moment; her flaming face would be a dead giveaway that something happened. Besides, Snape told her not to walk around by herself, and dinner was nearly over with.

Once her breathing had grown steady, Hermione began making her way back towards the Great Hall. She soon found out the source of her and Severus' interruption.

Apparently, Peeves had somehow gotten a large amount of stale and rotting food from the kitchens, and took it upon himself to strategically leave it strewn about the floor right outside the entrance of the Great Hall.

Dinner had indeed been over with, and students and staff had begun making their way out of the Great Hall, stopping short when they saw the small mountains of apple cores and squashed tomatoes haphazardly lined across the threshold.

Filch was snapping at the students to go around the mess, issuing threats of what he would do if they made more work for him by stepping in it and trekking it throughout the castle. The caretaker was holding a broom, whose straws looked as if they had seen better days, and looked utterly harassed as he fought to keep his cat away from the scraps, all the while glaring at the gape-mouthed students as they filed past.

"Eh, girlie! What are you staring it?" Filch snarled.

Hermione was still distracted from being pressed against her Defence professor not more than five minutes ago, and didn't realise that Filch was talking to her until she looked over at him.

"Nothing!" Hermione replied in a flustered voice, trying not to gag as she hastily stepped over what looked like the remains of several chicken innards. Ron and Harry had just come out into the corridor and were both highly amused as they surveyed the mess surrounding them.

"You should have heard it, Hermione," Ron snorted. "Me and Harry were just on the way out when we heard Filch yelling and cursing up a storm. Bloody hell, he nearly shouted the castle down!"

"What happened? I thought you were going back to the Common Room?" Harry asked, gently nudging Hermione in the side.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, only they were interrupted by Peeves suddenly popping out of a nearby wall and swooping over the crowd of students.

"Whooo whoop! Whooo whoop! Oh look, it's Potty wee Potter! Whooo whoop!" the poltergeist cheerfully called, the bells jingling on his bright orange party hat as he flew around.

"THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU, BLOODY P-!" Filch roared, throwing down his broom in a fit of anger.

"Hey, Filchy Filch! Want me to find some fish heads for you?" Peeves taunted over the clatter of the broom and the loudly cursing caretaker, grinning devilishly as he careened over the heads of a cluster of nervous-looking first year Hufflepuffs.

Oblivious to the Filch's roaring, Peeves continued cackling and circling about mid-air, becoming further encouraged when a few student began laughing at his antics. There were a few complaining professors that were standing out in the hall. Slughorn was among them, bemoaning that he was too old for the fuss and should have never returned to Hogwarts.

Right as someone suggested fetching Dumbledore, Snape appeared out of nowhere with the Bloody Baron floating behind him. Peeves' eyes went wide at the sight of the sword-wielding ghost, and he let loose one last whoop before shooting up to the high ceiling and disappearing.

Filch went on loudly carping about the amount of cleaning he was now forced to do. He shuffled around in an attempt to pick up his fallen broom, and snorted in annoyance when a student daringly plucked it from the ground to hand it to him.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Slughorn uttered from somewhere in the group. "I'm much too old for this—do you mind?" he then asked the caretaker, who gestured with a gnarled hand for him to proceed. Slughorn stuck one pudgy hand into the inner pocket of his burgundy robes and withdrew his wand, and with a practised move, vanished the mess of spoilt food surrounding the corridor.

"All right, then?" he nodded to Filch, whom merely frowned back in response. Slughorn then made his way to the front of the queue, sweeping up the corridor and out of sight.

With everything back to normal, everyone began clearing out of the entrance hall. Hermione turned to see where Snape was standing, shocked to find that he as well as the Bloody Baron were no longer there.

He might as well be a ghost himself, Hermione laughed wryly to herself at the way the professor stealthily moved around. Unfortunately, it was that same annoyingly practised ease which he earlier used to move away from her when they were hidden in the shadows.

Ginny suddenly appeared next to the trio, and Harry forgot his initial question to Hermione when he saw his girlfriend. Lavender also appeared out of nowhere, along with a sulking Parvati, and the blonde clutched onto Ron's arm.

Hermione fervently hoped that Parvati wouldn't attempt to strike up conversation with her, and was pleased to find that Parvati was choosing to mope in a quiet fashion. Hermione remained quiet also, only she was focused on the surliest professor at Hogwarts, and how they'd nearly kissed, at the same time telling herself that it was going to be hard to sleep that night.
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Unintentional Inveiglement