Lilies

@ sarehtipsreh—Thanks for reviewing! I figure the whole “Snape gets drunk and confuses two vaguely similar looking red-heads” thing probably happens a lot in the SS/GW section. I don’t ever stray there myself, but I think it’s a decently plausible situation, in as much as anything you find on AFF is plausible.

@ Sureves Epans—Thank you for the review! Here is more!

ATTENTION: This chapter features SoloM




Chapter Two
Strange Stirrings

By Double-Potions, Hermione had almost managed to forget about the incident from the previous night. Unfortunately, the memory seemed to hit her like a ton of bricks the closer she got to the classroom, as she considered the plight of her usual companions. Ron was not talking to her and Harry had managed to catch what was probably his death when sneaking out with Ginny. That left her alone at her table, with no one to hide behind, for the entire double period.

Checking her watch, Hermione realized with an overwhelming sense of panic that she was well on her way to being late. ‘Oh, gods… don’t give him a reason, Hermione, Heaven knows what he remembers.’ Picking up her pace, Hermione made it into the classroom with no time to spare, and went to the only empty work station in the back of the room. Feeling a bit like an exiled leper, Hermione started taking out her supplies and setting up her cauldron. ‘I won’t let them get to me. I won’t let -him- get to me,’ she repeated to herself over and over while reading the instructions for the day’s activity.

So absorbed in her preparations was Hermione, she did not notice that Professor Snape was nowhere to be seen. Whispers overtook the class. “Maybe he’s ill.” “Maybe he’s had a terrible accident—drowned in his own cauldron!” “Maybe he’s been sacked, finally!” “Maybe You-Know-Who killed him!” “Maybe Dumbledore killed him!” The longer the professor was absent, the wilder the speculations became. Finally, five minutes after the period was to begin, the door to the dungeon classroom opened with a bang, and in walked Professor Snape. “Well? Why aren’t you all prepared for your lesson?” He proceeded to walk around the classroom being generally intimidating, coming to a halt at Hermione’s work station.

“Miss Granger.”

“Yes, Professor?” she squeaked, startled.

“I know what you did,” he said, quietly enough that only she would hear it.

Utterly shocked by his words, Hermione was not able to think quickly enough to deny her illicit actions. “I-I-I… What do you want me to say? You weren’t in the classroom,” she whispered back, “I came looking for you. I did nothing wrong.”

“Other than impersonate Miss Weasley. You most certainly had to steal to accomplish that act. Not to mention the illicit mixture you created and imbibed, but that was not the act to which I was referring.”

“I beg your pardon, Professor?”

“I am referring, Miss Granger,” he continued in his silkiest whisper, “to an—ah—arrangement, an item, which showed up in my private quarters earlier today.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” she replied, honestly bewildered.

“Detention, Granger. Tonight at eight, no need to come in disguise. We will get to the bottom of this yet.” With that, he swept away across the classroom.

As he made his way back to his desk at the front of the classroom, Severus rehearsed mentally the way in which he would procure her confession. He would start by reminding her of the events of the night in question, including the mention of his former love—he would skirt over that lightly, and squash any questions that would certainly ensue given the individual with whom he was dealing like a soft-shelled insect.

He would remind her of that kiss—she had obviously assaulted his, ah, inebriated person, which was a serious offense. That kiss… Severus raised two fingers to his lips, remembering the warm, pleasant feeling, that gentle caress, the feeling of her lips on his. It was amazing, in all his memory there had been no sensation that could compete with her touch. ‘Gods,’ he shook himself, ‘listen to you. What the hell is wrong?’

At her work station, Hermione found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. She found herself instead staring at the Potions Master. As she did so, she found she was becoming aroused. ‘That is just wrong,’ she said to herself. This was not the first time she had noticed him in this way, so she did what she always did and told herself, ‘Pretend he can hear your thoughts.’ Unfortunately, that only kept the impure thoughts away for so long. She noticed her professor was also on another planet. ‘I wonder what he’s thinking about?’ she found herself thinking. ‘Could he be thinking about me? What would he do to me, given the chance, I wonder?’

She was now breathing heavily. Mercifully alone at her workstation and done with her potion, Hermione indulged herself in a daydream that involved her professor in a capacity that didn’t involve quills and desks—necessarily.

Jerking himself out of his reverie, Severus noticed that he seemed to have lost Miss Granger’s attention. ‘Something must be done about that,’ he thought. She deserved some punishment, beyond the scope of detention, for the way she had insinuated herself into his head. Standing and striding in a most intimidating way around the classroom, he made his way, taking his precious time, to where Hermione worked.

She stood over her cauldron stirring, leaning slightly on the table, with a far-away look in her eyes. She had no idea he was there. Perfect.

Approaching her from behind, Severus got a little closer than was strictly necessary, ‘Only for purposes of intimidation,’ he told himself. Molding himself to her back, he reached around and put his hand over hers on the stir. Bending his head, he whispered in her ear, “I believe that is enough, Miss Granger.”

She gasped, and was it his imagination, or did she lean back into him? He was sure she did.

“Surely you know,” he continued in the soft, silky whisper, “that overuse of one’s rod can cause a… cacophony of problems.” He pressed into her once more, and lowering his lips to the shell of her ear while breathing heavily, he reminded her, “Detention at eight.”

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After dismissing the class, Severus stalked into his office, casting strong wards and a silencing charm.

“What the hell is wrong with me?!” he thundered as he collapsed into his desk chair. He started to summon a bottle of Ogden’s when he remembered he had a detention tonight. It would not do to be drunk in two consecutive detentions with Miss Granger. Miss Granger. She was not a vision of beauty, but gods, look at him. What was important, what really mattered, was the way she felt against him. Beyond description. He remembered pressing against her in the back of the classroom, where anyone could have seen them, and he felt himself getting hard. Groaning, he unfastened his trousers, freeing his erection. Grasping his cock, he imagined a different ending to the scene in the classroom.

She was bent slightly over the work table, and he approached her from behind. He pulled her back, into him, rubbing his cock against her backside in an excruciatingly slow rhythm. He reached up to fondle her breasts and heard her gasp his name. He increased his rhythm and lowered his head to her ear. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed.

“I want you,” she gasped, brokenly, “I want you to fuck me.”

He spun her around in his arms and lifted her to sit on the very edge of the work table, careful to clear the cauldron. He guided her legs around him as he pressed his clothed cock against her knicker-clad core. She whimpered as he pulled her into a searing kiss. When she broke the kiss, gasping, to throw her head back, he latched onto her neck and pulled her into him insistently.

Howling, Severus came violently. “This has got to stop,” he told himself as he cleaned up.

Severus checked the clock. He had missed dinner. Detention was a mere hour away; he had to get himself under control.



A/N: Sorry this took so long. Please review!