Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Unintentional Inveiglement	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 129867 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 29
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and it's characters and making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
- 30
A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Thank you so much. I was going to do the author's note at the bottom but I'll do it here. Okay, for starters I'm back at work, which is cutting into my writing time! I'm not too pleased about that but until I strike it rich I have to work. *sigh* Nearly 7k done in one day, and I'm sitting here wondering how I pulled that off. I took a bit of creative licensing with this chapter soo..well, you'll see. So you've been warned that something isn't chronologically in order although I don't think it will matter much. There's also a bit of a lemon at the end so enjoy if you enjoy that sort of thing ;).

Snape frowned in his sleep at the feel of something pressing on the bridge of his nose, sending a dull pain shooting throughout his head. Grunting as he turned to avoid the source of pain, he found that he was lying on top of Hermione with most of his lower body sandwiched between her legs. His nose had been nearly flattened against her sternum, and the sensation was sharp enough that it prodded him out of sleep. It was a wonder the witch beneath him didn't wake up.

Wondering how the hell he ended up draped over Hermione, Snape dimly remembered the few times where his body jerked in the midst of slumber. The first time Hermione hadn't noticed, as she'd been curled onto her side with the blankets wrapped around her. The second, she'd been somewhat pressed against his side and the movement woke her up.

Snape hadn't been completely awake but the feel of gentle hands on his face had been comforting, and eventually they moved to his shoulders and coaxed him to turn completely over. Those hands had then slowly run through his hair and over the back of his neck, kneading some of the tension out of the taut, knotted muscles.

For hours they lie on that crude pallet in the corner of the nearly pitch dark classroom. Hermione kept both arms around the wizard even as she slept. Snape meant to move his person, figuring that he was crushing Hermione into the floor, but the feel of her soft, nightgown covered breasts against his head was divine, and her chest turned out to be quite a cosy spot on which to sleep, even if the lacy cuff of her sleeping garment was scratchy on his ear. Besides, his head still felt thick and heavy from earlier, and he had neither the energy nor inclination to shift so much as one inch.

Unable to fall right back asleep, Snape began rehashing everything that occurred within the past twenty-four hours. At least today was Saturday, and there were no classes to teach. Also, the headmaster knew it was his birthday, and while Snape abhorred any sort of fripperies surrounding the day, he was usually left in relative peace. He had been blessedly unscheduled from chaperoning duty for the weekend trip to Hogsmeade. The thought of not having to herd around a group of bawdy, hormonal, ratfink children would have made him smile, just a bit, had his face not been buried into Hermione's chest.

The first order of business, however, entailed tearing himself away from the soft comfort of the young witch's body, waking her up and sending her back to Gryffindor tower.

Soon as he thought about waking Hermione up, her breath faltered and she thrashed slightly. It wasn't enough to rouse her completely, but her hands tightened around his neck and her breathing steadied back within seconds once she retained her grasp on him.

A few hours prior, the young witch had yelled at him; now she was clutching onto him like a small child with their cuddly toy.

Figuring that it couldn't hurt to lie for a few minutes longer, Snape found himself becoming focused on and then relaxed by the sound of Hermione's breathing. He hadn't lied when he previously told her that she was prone to snoring...although that was usually after they had been naked and going at it for a few hours. Despite being in the throes of deep slumber she wasn't snoring now, and Snape was almost bereft that he hadn't been able to give her a reason for not doing so.

Resolving once more to get up and restore order to his laboratory, Snape had just shifted his weight when Hermione's arms tightened around his neck again, pulling him right back against her.

"Severus..." she trailed off in a sleepy tone.

Stymied that Hermione was calling his name in the midst of unconsciousness, Snape waited until she had settled down before gently extricating his body from her grasp. Thankfully she didn't wake up, instead immediately rolled over onto her side and curling into a ball when the blankets were drawn up to her shoulders.

Shuffling to get to his feet, Snape grabbed hold of the edge of the work table to steady himself. He still felt battered and bruised, and would have liked nothing more than to crawl back beneath the blankets and remain next to Hermione. But life had to go on, and with that unsavoury notion beating him over the head, Snape retrieved his clothing and dressed slowly.

It took him a few minutes to successfully rouse Hermione out of her sleep. When she opened her eyes, she looked dazed for a minute, as if she had forgotten where she was.

"What's wrong?" she murmured, becoming a bit more lucid when she saw Snape next to her, fully dressed and resting one hand on the blankets covering her hip.

"Nothing," he replied, "but you need to return to your dormitory."

Hermione wanted to tell Snape to lie back down with her, but deemed it pointless seeing as he was already dressed. With a wide yawn she pushed the covers back, shivering when she became exposed to the cool air.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm still here," Snape answered curtly. "Thank you."

Hermione thought professor looked as if he could crawl beneath a bed to get more rest, and she wanted to ask what sort of answer ''I'm still here" was, but refrained from doing so. The thought of heading back to Gryffindor tower was only slightly tempting as she thought about the large heater in the middle of the floor. She would have preferred to stay with Severus but apparently that was out of the question. It really was cold in the dungeon classroom, though, and she felt even colder as she watched Snape flick his wand at the pile of pillows and blankets to vanish them. Just as she was dreading the walk back throughout the castle in her bare feet and nightgown, Snape conjured her fuzzy slippers, the very ones he considered ugly, as well as her robe.

"Now put those on so you can take your leave," he directed.

Highly aware of the black eyes watching her as she dressed, Hermione shoved both feet into her slippers while stuffing both arms at the same time into her robe.

"That's better, thank you," she said, hurriedly tying the robe's sash around her waist. "I feel like Jack Frost is blowing on the back of my neck."

"All the more reason for you to get back to your bed," Snape pointed out, using his wand to extinguish the candles in the room and opening the door to step out into the corridor. Hermione noticed that he didn't make one of his usual banging exits, opting to quietly move about in the dark.

Hermione was just about to follow behind the professor when she stopped short. "Severus?" she asked, placing one hand on his arm. Snape paused and turned to look at her expectantly. "Can I see you later...tonight? I just thought maybe it would be nice to see you since it's your birthday," Hermione quickly added when it seemed as if he was about to tell her no.

"I assure you, me turning another year older is no cause for celebration or the like," he replied. "However, in an effort to keep you from skulking about on your own, I will come to find you."

"How will you know where to look?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow.

Snape gave her a half-smile. "I always know where to look. Now, take your familiar and come along."

Hermione was just about to ask why Snape was mentioning Crookshanks when she felt something furry sliding against her ankles. "Crooks! Were you waiting for me?" she asked, bending down to pick up the half-kneazle.

It didn't take long to walk across the castle and back to Gryffindor tower. With Snape guiding her, Hermione managed to avoid the crotchety caretaker as well as the nosy portraits. The professor walked until Hermione was at what he deemed a safe distance, before turning on his heel and disappearing around the corner.

"Ron! Will you hurry up, please? It's freezing and my toes are going numb," Hermione fussed, hopping from one foot to another in a vain attempt to get warm.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were in Hogsmeade for the outing that Saturday. After wrapping up in thick coats, hats and scarves, they trudged through the cold, slushy grounds of High Street, eager to get out of the blustery, whipping wind. Ron had paused to peer in through a shop window, pressing his nose against the glass to get a better look. Snow was falling into Harry and Hermione's eyes and they didn't' t bother to see what had captured Ron's attention, as they were both clamoring to get out of the cold and into someplace warm.

"All right, keep your hair on," said Ron, prying himself away from whatever he was looking at. "Are we going for a butterbeer, then?"

"Yeah, if you hurry up!" Harry told him.

Hermione had grown tired of waiting for her friends and hightailed it across the street to dash into the Three Broomsticks. She was just in the middle of pulling off her snow-dotted hat and coat when Ron and Harry walked in behind her.

"Sorry, but I really am cold and you took too long," she continued, sitting down and blowing into her hands to get the blood circulating. "Shall I go and order our drinks?"

Ron was in the middle of pulling his own outerwear off when something obviously caught his eye, as he almost left one jacket sleeve completely on.

"No...I'll go," he offered in a strange tone without looking at either of his friends.

Harry frowned and twisted round in his seat to see what the cause was for the change in his Ron's pitch. "Ah, I bet you will," he sniggered upon seeing the curvy figure of Madam Rosmerta, the pub's owner, leaning across the bar to talk to a customer, a short, wizened wizard with an odd-shaped purple hat. He was doing more talking with his hands but his piggy little eyes were obviously glued to the front of her slightly low-cut robes.

"Shut up!" Ron hissed before dashing in the direction of the bar.

"He's lucky Lavender isn't here," Harry laughed, craning his neck round once more. Ron had sauntered over and was now leaning against the wooden bar, fervently trying to gain Madam Rosmerta's attention while attempting to remain cool. "She'd pitch a fit if she saw Ron going on like that."

Hermione rolled her eyes, thinking about the way Lavender's penchant for theatrics. "Suppose you're right," she agreed, " but I wish Ron would put away his libido for a minute and bring my butterbeer!" Shaking her head, she and Harry both turned around. "Is Ginny meeting you later?"

"Maybe," Harry replied. "If not, I'll see her back at the school. She and Neville went to help Luna do...something. I don't really remember."

"Let me guess, an elusive search for one of her creatures?"

"I suppose so," Harry laughed. "All I know is Luna promised to treat Ginny and Neville to butterbeers if they helped her, but I think they would have helped her even without the offer."

Nodding in agreement, Hermione arched one eyebrow when Ron practically ran back over to the table, looking flustered as he set down their butterbeers.

"What's up with you?" Harry asked, catching sight of the red creeping into Ron's ears.

Ron flopped down into his seat, snatched a butterbeer towards him and began noisily slurping the foam off the top, while surreptitiously glancing over at the bar.

"Well?"

Ron mumbled something into his butterbeer, his voice so low that Harry had to ask him to repeat himself.

"I said...she wouldn't laugh at my joke!"

The effort it took for Hermione not to laugh at the bereft look on Ron's face was Herculean. He looked as if someone had taken all of his Christmases, kicked his puppy, pulled his hair, and then forced him to sit on the naughty step as if everything gone wrong in the world was his fault.

"Don't you laugh at me," he grumbled at Harry, who was making no moves to hide his amusement.

"Well, I'm not the one sulking like a four-year-old who had their toys taken away," Harry told him. "And besides, your girlfriend is coming over, so you'd better straighten your face."

"What?" Ron asked, his blue eyes going wide with horror.

"Ron!" uttered the shrill voice of Lavender Brown.

No Won-Won? Hermione cackled to herself.

Ron pretended to be utterly enthralled by his butterbeer, and pasted on a fake smile when he turned to look up at the blonde. "Hi, Lavender. What brings you round?"

"So you don't even notice your own girlfriend because you're too busy flirting with another woman, is that it?" she began, looking highly displeased as she crossed both arms across her fuzzy-pink jumper covered chest. She then moved one hand to her hip, the assortment of bracelets on her wrist clacking together loud enough to make her sound like an bizarre one-witch symphony.

Harry and Hermione were looking anywhere but at the couple, the blonde, jangling bracelet half of which who looked as if she was about to spit flames, and Ron, who looked as if he were about to be led to the gallows.

"I was sitting in the corner with Parvati. We tried waving but apparently you were too busy to bother with looking over!"

It really is a wonder we didn't hear you with your ten pounds of bracelets, Hermione thought, soon losing patience with Lavender's shrill voice going over her head. "Err, Harry, walk me to the loo?" she asked after she had hastily taken the last gulp of her butterbeer.

"What, can't you go on your own?"

Are you being deliberately thick-headed? Hermione wondered as she swiftly kicked him beneath the table.

"Yeah, sure," he hastily amended, fighting back a grimace as her kick was enough to deliver the hint.

The two got up from their chairs and hurried in the other direction, leaving behind the arguing couple. Actually, Ron was sitting quietly and Lavender was rambling on, both of whom were drawing a bit of attention from other students also in the Three Broomsticks.

"Ugh, I just needed to get away from her," said Hermione once they were out of earshot. "I like Lavender, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I don't feel like hearing her whine."

"You're right; let's leave that to Ron," said Harry. "Sorry about that, I honestly thought that you needed me to escort you to the loo. I was about to tell you that I'm sure you're safe from Moaning Myrtle haunting the plumbing here."

"You nearly got pinched for being daft, but you were too far away from me," Hermione brusquely told him. "Oh, but now I really do need to go. I'll be right back."

Harry looked a bit uncomfortable at Hermione telling him that she needed to visit the lavatory, but he dutifully walked her upstairs and waited in the narrow hallway. The lavatory was occupied but Hermione only had to wait a minute before the door opened to reveal one of her classmates, Katie Bell.

"Hi, Katie," Hermione told her as they passed one another.

Katie vaguely looked up at Hermione but didn't answer. She was clutching both arms to her chest as she brushed past to get to the rickety wooden staircase.

"Right," said Hermione under her breath.

Five minutes later Hermione felt much more relieved and reconvened with a very put-out looking Harry in the hallway.

"What's wrong?"

"Two words: Draco Malfoy," Harry spat, holding onto the banister and peering down at the crowded pub floor.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"Oh, the usual. He insulted me with his usual sharp wit before going on his way."

"Never mind him," Hermione told Harry. "Let's go rescue Ron before Lavender turns him into a toad and keeps him in a cage for Transfiguration practice."

Surprisingly enough, when they got back to the table, they found Lavender in the middle of kissing Ron on the cheek. She then walked back over to Parvati with a much more agreeable look on her face.

"Should I even ask what you said to her?" Hermione asked, causing Ron to look sheepish.

"Hmm, better not."

Feeling a bit lighter after a second round of butterbeers, the three managed to avoid another kerfuffle before leaving the pub. Ron forgot about Madam Rosmerta and his row with Lavender, and was now joking around with Harry as they stepped back out into the snowy village. They were halfway to Hogwarts when Katie and her best friend, Leanne, were seen off in the distance.

"I saw Katie back in the pub," Hermione remarked. "I said hi to her and she acted as if she barely noticed me."

"Maybe she's having an off day," Ron suggested. "You girls are strange; there's no accounting for half the things you lot do."

Hermione scowled at Ron and was about to give him a scathing reply when a blood-curdling scream was heard from both girls ahead.

Running awkwardly through the snow, the three encountered a babbling Leanne who was frozen in place and in a state of shocked as she stared up at her best friend, who was hovering high in the air as if held by invisible strings. Katie was then violently jerked and pulled along and the sight was horrifying, especially since the other four on the ground were unable to do anything.

Finally Katie descended back onto the pristine, snow covered ground and lie there, eyes wide and unseeing and her limbs twitching. A trembling Leanne and shaken Hermione were about to walk over to Katie when Hagrid appeared out of nowhere, and yelled for them to not touch her.

When Leann pointed to something that Katie had been carrying, which turned out to be an opal necklace that was also lying in the snow a few feet away from them, Hagrid instructed Harry on how to pick it up.

By then, Hagrid had scooped a now unconscious Katie up into his massive arms, and he led the rest of the students back to Hogwarts, all of them walking in an almost funereal procession.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione didn't speak much as they went to the Gryffindor common room. They had barely gotten their coats and hats off when another student came in to deliver the message that McGonagall wanted to see them in her office.

"Oh damn, here we go," Ron muttered.

Leanne was still crying when they encountered her walking out of McGonagall's office. The Head of House surveyed her students with a grim countenance when they made their way inside.

"I long for the day that something happens and you three aren't involved," she managed to get out, despite her mouth being set in a firm line.

"You and me, both," Ron grumbled under his breath.

"Well?" she said sharply. "What happened?"

The three took turns explaining what they saw when Snape swept into the room in a flourish of black robes. Hermione hadn't expected him to show up and felt her heart beat just a bit faster, and had to bite the inside of her cheek to remain impassive. While it was true that she and her friends were standing before both professors under undesirable circumstances, Hermione was still unable to thwart her body's reaction to Snape's presence.

He barely looked at the three, too busy with examining the necklace on McGonagall's he finally proclaimed to be cursed. When Snape said that Katie was lucky to be alive, Hermione felt her blood go cold. She didn't think it was that easy to gain hold of cursed items, and it was highly unlikely that there was a student who knew enough advanced Dark Magic to place a curse on an object themselves. Still, the entire situation hit too close to home and Hermione found herself growing fearful.

But then Harry had to open his mouth and cast blame to Malfoy, and Hermione had to admit that idea seemed slightly outrageous.

Snape rounded on Harry so fast that Hermione nearly felt her own head spin. McGonagall even looked shocked to hear the accusation. Harry seemed to forget that the Head of Slytherin House was standing right there, because he continued telling McGonagall about Draco's trip to Borgin and Burkes right before the start of school.

It was one thing to be dressed down by either professor, but to have them standing together and glaring at you was another thing. Even though McGonagall and Snape were looking at Harry, Hermione still felt her own stomach knotting up with tension.

Idiot! Hermione screamed inwardly for Harry's loose tongue.

Hot-headed as ever, Harry was adamant about Draco somehow giving the cursed necklace to Leanne. McGonagall quickly nipped that theory in the bud, claiming that Malfoy was with her that afternoon, serving detention to make up his Transfiguration homework.

Hermione snuck a glance at Snape, whose lip was curled in a slight sneer, perhaps because he was peeved at another teacher punishing a student from his House. Or he could have been irritated by Harry imploring that everything was Malfoy's fault. Either way, he was staring so dispassionately at her black-haired best friend that her own knees nearly knocked together.

Snape had advanced on Harry, his tall black-robed form towering of his, referring to the younger wizard in a sinisterly smooth voice as 'The Chosen One', and the two stood in a sort of stare-off until McGonagall sent them all back to their dormitories.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, walking briskly to try and keep up with Harry. "You can't go around accusing people like that, are you mad?"

"Hermione, spare me the lecture, all right?" he angrily replied. "I know what I saw, and I definitely saw Draco Malfoy in The Three Broomsticks today, unless it was some other pompous, self-centered blond wizard that called me the chosen—well, I'll leave the next word out—before flipping me the finger."

"Still, mate, Hermione's right," Ron chimed in. "I don't think it was smart to mention all that in front of Snape. For all you know, he can go back and tell Malfoy."

"Well, maybe Snape needs to know that one of his precious Slytherins are trying to kill off other students!" Harry snapped. "Fine, then," he noisily exhaled. "How else do you think Katie got the necklace?"

"I have no idea, but when I went in the bathroom at the pub, there was no one else inside," said Hermione.

Harry refused to listen to anything either Ron or Hermione had to say, and they listened to him continue to postulate theories as they climbed one of the moving staircases, gripping the banister when it suddenly shifted from one wall to move to the next.

Snape wasn't an idiot; he knew from first glance at the cursed Katie Bell, whom had to be sedated upon arriving to the hospital wing, that Draco Malfoy had something to do with it.

Filch had been the one to summon him. The caretaker had thrusted the scarf-wrapped necklace in his direction, grumbling about not being able to check it with his Secrecy Sensor, then rasping out that McGonagall needed him in her office.

The young Gryffindor had been eerily silent as the curse was lifted from her body. After enough had been done for Madam Pomfrey to take over, Snape hurried back down to the dungeons, nearly wearing holes in the flagstones with his brisk canter. It didn't take him long to find Draco in the common room, his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap while his simple-minded cronies sat nearby.

The look on Snape's face had been warning enough for Draco to get up and follow him, even though he was feigning ignorance as to why he was being summoned. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy all looked shocked at seeing their Head of House, and bowed their heads to avoid his gaze. Draco's thespian attempts, however, were amateur at best; Snape saw right through his act of supposed innocence.

"Stay there, and so help me if you move," Snape ordered coldly after shoving Draco into his office and slamming the door shut.

The problem with dealing with hot-blooded, young wizards was they thought they knew everything, they believed everyone to be dim-witted. If Malfoy and Potter knew how much they were alike in that aspect, they would have had two coronaries apiece.

Now Snape was left to sort out another fine mess that Draco managed to land himself in, all the while trying to keep Potter from sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

He was surprised that the brash Gryffindor even made mention of Draco going into Borgin and Burkes, yet he filed that tidbit of information away for later use. It was impossible for Snape to know each and every one of Draco's moves, but the inexperienced wizard was sloppy in each of his attempts at secret plotting and it made his job easier. But the fact that he nearly killed another student could not be ignored, and Snape awaited a sound verbal-lashing from the headmaster, among other things.

Snape still thought it terribly nervy of Potter to suggest that Malfoy was to blame, especially seeing as he had no concrete proof. Apparently his friends thought him mad as well, as the abashed looks on Weasley and Granger's face hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Tell me, Draco," Snape began when he returned to his office. The blond was sitting in the chair opposite his desk with a pinched look on his face. "Is expulsion on your list of tasks to carry out? Or perhaps it is your intent to join your father in Azkaban?"

Draco immediately jumped up out of his seat at the mention of his father.

"How dare you?!" he seethed, his grey eyes nearly burning with hatred as he stared into the cooler, yet just as icy visage of his Head of House. "How dare you even mention him!"

"You listen, and listen well," Snape continued in a tight voice. "You can cast blame at me all you like for your father being sent to prison. I assure you, I can withstand that much. You can scream from the rooftops that I want his position—I truly do not give a damn. But you better damn well get yourself sorted, Draco."

"I don't know why you assume that I did anything in the first place! Maybe you should ask Saint Potter and his pet Mudblood; they were sucking face when I saw them earlier."

"Ah. Funny how I never mentioned you doing anything in the first place. I just told you to stay in my office. Is there something you would like to tell me?"

Draco's face turned an ugly shade of red when he realised that he had been caught, yet he remained silent.

Amateurs, reckless amateurs. Rule one: Never try to out-Slytherin a Slytherin, especially one that is vastly more experienced than you, Snape thought derisively.

"Either you can let me assist you, or you can continue placing faith in those two idiots you call friends," Snape went on. "But rest assured, the latter opinion will see that you swiftly meet your downfall. And once you're beneath the Dark Lord's wand, flimsy excuses will not keep him from using Crucio on you while your mother stands by and bears witness. Narcissa won't be able to save you, nor will I."

Those words seemed to have some effect on Malfoy, because abject terror registered across his face. Deeming his job done, Snape told the boy to get out of his sight, and Draco nearly tipped over the sturdy chair in his haste to get out of the professor's office.

Hours before his day went to shite, everything had been relatively peaceful after escorting Hermione to her room early that morning. It had been pointless to think that it would carry on, but even so, Snape planned on remaining in his rooms the entire weekend, perhaps only venturing out for dinner the next day. But it had been too much to hope for even a full day of silence, where he wouldn't be beckoned for one reason or another. He hadn't forgotten about Hermione asking if she could see him later that night, and he at least had that to look forward to.

The last thing he planned on was tending to a student that had been cursed, something Snape was sure hadn't been part of Draco's cocked-up plan that had been destined for failure from the start.

Harry was still a bit put out with Ron and Hermione long after they were in their common room. Ginny had returned from her outing with Luna and Neville, and the two went off to be alone. Ron didn't even bother with trying to follow them, not that it would have mattered as Lavender's widely grinning face showed up, and she grabbed Ron by the hand and dragged him off to some other part of the castle.

Hermione didn't mind being left behind as there was always reading for her to catch up on. After a few minutes of curling up in the good armchair by the fire and settling down with a book, Crookshanks sauntered in and settled at her feet.

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Hermione wondered how Katie was faring in the hospital wing, but knew that it would pointless to ask McGonagall as the professor would most likely refuse to divulge any information.

Going down to dinner alone, as none of her friends had yet returned to the common room, Hermione made quick work of eating as she wanted to have first dibs on the prefects' bathroom. Ron and Lavender were walking in the Great Hall when Hermione was on her way out. They appeared to still be on good terms and weren't in the middle of another row, and Lavender was still all smiles as she waved to Hermione.

Harry and Ginny also happened to be halfway down the corridor when Hermione saw them walking towards her.

"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing over to him when she was struck by a sudden idea. Peeking at his face to see if he was still cross, Hermione noticed that he was in a better mood and reminded herself to thank Ginny later. "Can I borrow your map again?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "But it's in my trunk in the dormitory. Should I even ask what for this time?"

"If you want, but it's for the usual reason," Hermione answered nonchalantly.

"The map is yours, seeing how well you took care of it over the holiday," Harry smiled. "Have fun sneaking into the library."

Thanking Harry and dashing off, Hermione hurried back up to Gryffindor tower to grab everything she needed. All day she wondered how Snape was going to approach her, but then she did her best to put it out of her mind. It was hard enough to predict his actions, and Hermione was secure enough to know that she was nowhere near his league to try and do so.

Once she was bathed and in a clean set of clothes, not her nightgown as it would have looked odd for her to be traipsing around on sleepwear in the instance she was caught, Hermione made her way down to the kitchens. Dobby was happy to see her again and tried to give Hermione more food than she asked for. When tears began shining in his golf ball-sized eyes at her refusal, she let the house-elf give her as much as he wanted.

"What am I going to do with all this?" Hermione asked herself, letting out a mixture of a laugh and a grimace as she felt the food-laden basket weighing down her arm.

Pausing to set the heavy basket at her feet, Hermione pulled the Marauder's Map out of her back pocket and used her wand to illuminate it. Snape's dot was on the first floor, although he appeared to be on the move. Figuring that she could try and meet him halfway, perhaps making it look like coincidence, Hermione put out her wand and stowed the map in her pocket. She had just picked her basket up and took all of three steps when something flew at her out of the dark, shoving her hard against the wall and causing her to drop her basket.

"Ow! What the—"

"Shut up, you filthy little Mudblood!" hissed a harsh voice that could only belong to Draco Malfoy.

"Get away from me, Malfoy!" Hermione ordered through clenched teeth, lifting one hand and shoving at his solid chest.

"I don't think so, Granger," he spat, leaning in close enough until Hermione could see the icy glint in his grey eyes. "I thought you were smart, but apparently I was wrong. No matter, then. You just make sure to tell your little boyfriend to keep his mouth shut!"

Several thoughts began running through Hermione's mind at that point. Harry had most likely in fact seen Draco earlier that day at The Three Broomsticks, and Draco most likely had something to do with Katie Bell being cursed. Else why would he have her shoved against the wall and issuing threats?

"I won't tell you again, Ferret," Hermione snapped, creeping one hand to her pocket. Draco hadn't expected her to whip her wand out in a flash and press it into his throat. "Leave me alone,or I'll hex your bits off!"

Whether it was out of bravery or foolishness, Hermione wasn't sure, but whichever it was it made Draco also withdraw his wand and aim it at her chest.

"I believe you heard what I said," he continued as if her wand wasn't at this throat. "You tell Potter to stay out of my business and keep my name out of his mouth, unless he wants to be blamed for another mishap."

A broken feline cry suddenly interrupted their spat, and Mrs. Norris came around the corner and loudly hissed at the two. Shortly after, the shuffling of Mr. Filch's feet were heard, and the grumpy caretaker stumbled over.

"What is this? What is this?! Wands out! Wands out in the corridor!" he immediately shouted in a croaky voice, a sinister grin twisting the deep creases in his face. "It'll be detention for you both!"

"What? But I was minding my business when she accosted me!" Draco fumed, causing Hermione to scoff loudly.

"Oh, that's rich!" she snapped at him, lowering her wand and tucking it into her pocket.

"You shut your mouth, Mudblood!" Draco shouted in her face because turning back to Filch. "And you, you dirty Squib! Why don't you made yourself useful and find Professor Snape so he can give this thing detention!"

Filch nearly forgot about Hermione, even though they both began yelling at Draco for his epithets, when a deeper voice cut across them all and effectively put an end to their bickering.

"Is there a problem?" said the unpleasant voice of Severus Snape. The three paused and looked up to find him standing there, waiting for an answer.

"Professor, I found these rowing with their wands out in the corridor," Filch explained. "Surely they both need punishment! I even have the chains ready in my of—"

"Thank you, Filch, I will handle it," Snape told him curtly, excusing the caretaker in so many words. "Miss Granger, you know the rules: no wands out in the corridor. I think a few weekends of detention will help you to mull it over. And Mister Malfoy, I believe you are supposed to be in your dormitory. Kindly see that you return to it now."

Hermione was so incensed at the injustice of it all that she never noticed when Draco called her another nasty name under his breath before swaggering off in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories. Feeling angrier than a wet hen, Hermione had to force herself to keep her temper from flailing out of check. Why should she have to serve detention when it was Draco that confronted her and pushed her against the wall?

The little git! she screamed inwardly. Her left shoulder throbbed from striking the wall, something she hadn't noticed until just now.

"Professor," she began in a tight voice, only for Snape to cut her off.

"Quiet, Miss Granger," he replied. "Save your explanations for your own Head of House; I for one, am not interested."

That was the final straw; at that moment Hermione had the urge to drag both Filch and Draco in front of her, turn them as well as Snape into some palm-sized furry creature with catnip antlers and present Crookshanks with new toys. She expected Snape to take Draco's side, no matter what the circumstances were, but he refused to even listen to her and that was a hard pill to swallow.

"Follow me, Miss Granger," Snape ordered in a tone that brooked no argument, breaking Hermione out of her mutinous plotting.

Feeling as if she had no other choice, Hermione picked up her fallen basket and obediently followed in behind Snape, angrily staring down at his rapidly moving feet and paying scant attention to wherever she was being led.

"Inside."

Looking up, Hermione found Snape standing by an opened door of a darkened classroom, or an office, she wasn't sure. Wall scones blared to life as she stepped inside, revealing what was in fact an old classroom.

"Have a seat," Snape told her. "I'll return in a minute."

The classroom was damp and chilly, and it took Hermione a couple of tries before she found a stool that didn't have uneven, bockety legs that made the whole thing rock back and forth when she sat down.

Hermione mused that if she had five pounds for each time she felt like an idiot when it came to dealing with Snape, that she could have treated herself to something outrageously expensive, or perhaps a brand new set of books. She felt foolish holding onto a basket that was full of food and desserts, meant to be eaten as they celebrated his birthday in a roundabout way. Instead, she had been attacked and insulted by Draco, yelled at by Filch, and given who knew how many weekends of detention by Snape. Her head was beginning to hurt and her shoulder still throbbed, the waves of pain almost congruous with the waves of anger taking over her senses. It really wasn't fair.

Continuing to seethe with anger, Hermione became so lost in her thoughts that she nearly forgot where she was, and became startled when Snape came back into the classroom, banging the door shut behind him.

"Come along, Miss Granger," he directed without looking at her.

Hermione slid off the stool and walked behind Snape, curious as to where they were going but opting to keep her mouth closed. She knew if she were to speak that her irritation would take the form of an insult, and the last thing she felt like doing was getting into it with a wizard that would not hesitate to eat her alive, spit out the bones and pulverise them for potions ingredients.

Snape paused in front of a cold hearth. Withdrawing what she guessed was a handful of Floo powder from some hidden space near the wall, he tossed it into the hearth and waited for the bright green flames to appear. Once they both Floo'd to his private room, Hermione had just stepped out of the hearth and into the middle of the study when she blurted out, "Why did you give me detention and not Malfoy?! He attacked me first!"

"Settle down, Hermione," Snape calmly told her, gesturing to the armchair before the now lit fireplace.

"No, I will not settle down!" Hermione snapped. "How is it Malfoy gets to shove me against the wall and call me names, while I get punished for defending myself? What will it take for him to be treated equally, having my blood drawn? Being maimed and murdered?"

Hermione knew she was stepping over the line, but at that point she didn't care. Maybe Harry had a point about Malfoy being involved with the whole cursed necklace thing, but unfortunately none of them had any evidence. So if Malfoy could get away with nearly killing a classmate, who just happened to be a fellow Gryffindor, who was to say that he couldn't do something to her without any consequences? That was not a risk Hermione was willing to take.

"Are you finished?" Snape asked lazily, staring coolly at her.

"What...?" Hermione spluttered, thrown off by his insouciance. "I know I'm not one of your precious Slytherins, but forgive me for not taking kindly to being threatened."

"Clearly you've been hanging around Potter too long; his penchant for hot-headedness has rubbed off on you."

Hermione unleashed a cry that was a mixture of frustration and exasperation. She forgot that Snape could be unreasonable when he wanted; apparently now was one of those times.

"Are you hurt?" he was now asking her.

"Why, does it matter?" Hermione shot back.

Snape had just removed his frock coat and was now rolling the cuffs of his white shirt back to his wrists when he paused in front of Hermione.

"That is the last time you will speak to me in that tone, Miss Granger."

Snape's voice was low but his words carried a threat that Hermione had no wish to test. She flushed slightly for she knew she was being impertinent, and lowered her eyes when the professor continued staring at her without blinking.

"Now I will ask you again: are you hurt?"

"Yes, a little," she meekly answered. "I think my shoulder is bruised."

Snape said nothing as he urged Hermione out of the chair and led her to his bedroom. Once they were inside, he stepped closer and grasped the hem of Hermione's jumper, easing it up her body and over her head. Her bra received the same treatment and Hermione stood next to Snape's bed in her jeans and trainers. He moved behind her, sweeping her hair up in one hand and running his fingers of the other hand across her upper back.

Hermione winced and recoiled slightly when he probed a tender area, and wondered if she had more than just a bruise.

"It's nothing life-threatening, but some bruise-healing paste wouldn't go amiss," Snape commented as he let go of Hermione's hair, sending a draft trickling down her spine.

Hermione's anger hadn't totally dissipated, but the feel of Snape's fingers against her bare skin sent butterflies fluttering throughout her stomach. No matter that they had been intimate a countless amount of times already, the professor still had the same effect on her, and after all this time, it still hadn't ebbed.

Crossing both arms across her chest, Hermione found that her nipples had grown hard from that slight contact. Turncoats, she silently told them, trying to ignore the way they brushed against her forearm. She was still furious at him for evading her question about being attacked and furious at her body for wanting more of his touch.

Snape returned shortly with a small jar in his hand. Hermione kept her arms crossed and eyed him warily, as if his jar contained more than bruise paste.

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked with impatience colouring his voice. "Are you still cross with me? Do you no longer trust me? You do know I'm not keeping you prisoner here," Snape continued, picking up Hermione's shirt and bra and holding them out to her for emphasis. "Go if you like, and by all means keep on with your childish snit."

Hermione pursed her lips but she did lower both arms to her sides. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Severus, not after all the trouble she had gone through to see him.

Taking that small gesture as a sign of surrender, Snape pointed at Hermione's trainers. "Take those off and lie down."

Figuring it was in her best interest to shut up and do as Snape said, Hermione toed her shoes off and kicked them to the side. Lying across the foot of the bed and leaving her feet dangling off the edge, Hermione buried her face into the duvet and waited for Snape to work his magic. She half expected him to stand over her head to apply the bruise paste, but instead he climbed onto the bed with her, tugging her to lie horizontally before straddling her thighs.

Long fingers gently turned Hermione's head to one side and smoothed her curls out of the way. The sound of the jar being unscrewed was close to her ear, and soon familiar callused fingers were gently massaging the ointment onto her bruised skin.

"The problem with you headstrong adolescents, especially you, my little know-it all, is you think you know everything, you think you have it all figured out," Snape began conversationally. "If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed that I only said you had detention. If you really had been in trouble I would have taken House points, but I suppose that small detail went over this bushy head of yours."

Hermione didn't bristle at the 'bushy head' comment, but she did let Snape's words sink in for a moment. "So does that mean I don't have detention?"

Snape let out an sigh above her head. "No, Hermione. I merely said that you did for reasons which should be obvious."

The bruise-healing paste had been completely rubbed in, and now Snape was using both hands to knead and massage her shoulders. Hermione almost wanted to stay mad at the wizard, but his skilled fingers were coaxing every ill sentiment out of her limbs, and soon she lie beneath him in a limp heap.

"Keep in mind that if I'm doing something that seems unorthodox, it is in fact for a specific reason, none of which you need know about," Snape told her, his thumbs digging into Hermione's lower back and causing her to moan into the duvet. "Remember that the next time you want to fly off the handle like one of your little friends."

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. She then turned over when she felt Snape pushing at her hip. "But Draco shoved me against the wall, called me a 'Mudblood' and then told me that I'd better tell Harry to keep his name out of his mouth. How else was I supposed to react?"

Snape wanted to applaud Hermione for sticking her wand into Malfoy's neck; the boy really was getting out of hand and needed to be taken down a peg or two. But Snape knew it would behoove him to keep that to himself. "You have every right to defend yourself, I will allow that," he said, now running his hands over Hermione's stomach. "But now do you understand why I tell you time and time again to not wander around alone?"

"Well..." Hermione trailed off, growing drowsy at the soothing feel of Snape's fingers gliding across her ribcage. "I had Harry's map...I still do, actually. I'd been looking at it and I didn't notice Draco on it, well, to be honest I wasn't really looking for him."

"Who were you looking for?"

"You, of course," Hermione said, opening her eyes and staring up at Snape. His mouth was set in a firm line and his lank, black hair was obscuring most of his face, but she could see that his eyes were focused on her bare breasts.

"So you mean you didn't come down here to behave like a deranged harpy?"

"No. I came down here because it's still your birthday, and I went to the kitchens to get something to celebrate."

"Only you would do such a thing after I clearly said not to." Snape was now looking at her through narrowed eyes.

"You said nothing about sticky-toffee pudding, which is what's in my basket in your sitting room. If it's still in one piece, that is. I dropped the basket when Draco pushed me."

Snape had a few choice words about the way the younger Malfoy behaved towards Hermione, but knew that they were best left unspoken. The professor would only admit it to himself, but it had been months prior where he felt as if he had some sort of claim on the young witch, and to find the ugly bruise that Draco left behind only made him want to break the insolent boy's fingers. While he couldn't control Draco's actions outside of Hogwarts, Snape made damn sure to do so while he was inside the school.

Even if it wasn't for that bloody Unbreakable Vow he'd made with Narcissa, allowing Draco to run amuck would land Snape with nothing but a headache and an inquiry as to why he was allowing students from his House to assault others. Snape was dealing with enough as it is, and had no wish to add to the already strenuous intricacies of his life.

"Just so you know, that incident will not be ignored," he told Hermione, who immediately opened her mouth to offer her opinion. "Be quiet," said Snape, reaching up to pinch her lips shut. "That was not an invitation for you to begin spouting off again. I'm merely impressing upon you the fact that you claim to trust me, yet second-guess my actions. Unless those words were uttered in vain and you only said them because you thought it was what I wanted to hear?"

"No," Hermione answered once Snape released her lips. "I meant it then, and I still do now."

The witch spoke with an utmost sincerity, although Snape never really doubted her. Besides, Hermione would never be able to convincingly lie to him. On the other hand, it wasn't her fault that he played his part well, a little too well, at times. It wasn't surprising that Hermione hadn't seen through his entire facade out in the corridor, which was what he intended in the first place.

"You know, our time was sort of cut short this morning," Hermione pointed out, looking up at Snape with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Is that so?" he asked quietly, watching as Hermione pushed herself upright to grab his hand and pull him against her.

Hermione's grip was strong, and Snape had no problem with allowing her to tug him closer. The little witch shifted herself nearly into his lap, slipping both arms around his neck and tilting her face towards his for a kiss. He was in no position to deny her request and secured both arms around her back to keep her in place.

It had been a cold, lonely week in his bed, and with everything that happened the night before, Snape found the feel of Hermione's half-naked body in his arms to be comforting. She was half kneeling over him, her hips rocking against his as she planted kisses from his neck down to the patch of exposed skin between the unbuttoned top of his shirt.

"Yes," Hermione replied, now sitting back to undo the rest of his buttons. The witch was impatient and Snape pushed her hands out the way before she ripped his shirt, then moving onto the sleeveless vest beneath. Once he was bare-chested as Hermione, Snape went the extra step to push her to lie flat on the bed, unfastening her jeans and pulling them and her knickers off and shoving them to the side.

Hermione didn't know if she should attempt to lead or wait for Severus to do so. It didn't matter as she decided that she wanted to be kiss, and she nearly launched herself at him, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him down to her. She almost expected Severus to chide her for being too eager, but he didn't seem to mind. Of his own volition, Snape slowly traced his tongue along Hermione's bottom lip, placing sucking kisses to her mouth and throat before moving down her body. Long fingers curved around both breasts, lifting and gripping both with just enough pressure to make Hermione squirm. Her nipples had remained hard all that time, although it was largely due to being topless in the cool, dimly lit room. But Severus' mouth was feverishly warm, and when his mouth descended upon Hermione's left breast, she tangled her hand in his hair and urged him closer.

Snape never tired of stroking and tasting Hermione's soft skin; he would have lost himself in her body that morning, although there had been no time. Now he planned on lingering each nuance, his fingertips and tongue leading the way.

It didn't take long for Hermione to become reduced to a state of trembling, especially after Snape slipped on hand between her legs, letting his fingers graze the soft curls covering her sex. Hermione splayed her thighs and let them fall to the side, trying to encourage Severus to rub a bit harder.

Briefly Hermione wondered if Severus was going to torment her for a while before getting on with it. But apparently he wasn't in the mood to go slowly, for he literally descended upon her, his nose pressing into her sternum as he sucked her entire areola into his mouth while his fingertip strummed over her sensitive clit.

"Oh!" Hermione cried sharply when two fingers swiftly pressed inside her body, and with little difficult began teasing and stroking her walls. She wanted to touch Severus, wherever her hands would allow considering the position she was lying in, but Hermione was rapidly losing focus as the thrusting fingers sent jolts of pleasure coursing throughout her limbs.

Head spinning with arousal, Hermione needed to feel Severus against her, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders and tried to pull him closer. Without moving his hand from between her legs, he straddled one thigh while hovering over the witch, capturing her lips in a deep kiss that spoke of more to come.

Severus continued twisting his long fingers inside of Hermione, the feel of her juices soaking his palm enough to fuel his own arousal. Looking down at the witch who was rapidly becoming lost to her own pleasure, he watched as dropped her hand from his shoulder to reach down and rub herself while he fingered her.

His erection was almost hard enough to break the placket of his trousers, and Snape wished that he had taken them off earlier. He was in a quandary as to what he wanted to watch more; Hermione's face the closer she got to orgasm, or his fingers which were now glistening with her slick juices.

Making sure to keep his movements steady, Severus watched as Hermione's body drew tighter and tighter until her back was completely arched off the bed. Her walls were fluttering around his fingers, and his hand was soaked to the knuckle. Within a few more seconds Hermione released a sharp gasp followed by a piercing cry that left his ears ringing, and she broke apart.

Severus continued fingering her throughout her climax, although he was met with a dire need to bury himself in Hermione's body. It was awkward trying to unfasten his trousers with one hand but finally he got them and his boxers down to his thighs. Hermione was still in a daze and complained minimally when Severus withdrew his hand, but her annoyance was short lived when she was roughly pulled beneath the wizard and his weeping and very erect cock replaced his fingers.

The young witch sharply sucked in air when Severus entered her in one long, steady thrust that left him deeply seated within her. Too far gone to bother with mindfully easing his way into Hermione's snug body, Severus tried to at least make sure that he wasn't outright pummeling into her. Even though it had been little more than a week when they were last intimate, it was still too long and he felt himself about to lose control sooner than he anticipated. But he wanted to see Hermione come apart once more, and grabbed onto her thighs, pushing one to the side and wrapping his arm around the other.

Hermione felt splayed and vulnerable for more reason than one, and with Severus holding onto her while making it clear that he wasn't letting go any time soon, the steady cadence of his hips rocking into hers was enough to send her over the edge once more.

The sounds from her mouth could only be described as nonsensical, but Severus planted his lips at the side of Hermione's neck, his voice a rough whisper as he encouraged her to continue making those little noises. Another of his rough, needy growls into Hermione's ear was enough to set fire to her blood, and her scream became trapped between clenched teeth as bliss shot throughout her trembling body.

Severus felt every drop of his seed literally being milked out of his twitching cock until it was if he had been drained dry. Vaguely aware that he'd been swearing underneath his breath from his forceful release, he almost forgot that Hermione had been clutching onto him the entire time until he moved to shift to the side and her arms tightened around him.

"Stay," she murmured sleepily, nuzzling her nose against his cheek.

Too worn out to do more than nod, Severus allowed Hermione to keep him in place. Her fingertips were circling one of the rough scars on his back and for a split second he wondered if Hermione was put off by his flawed body. But the little witch kept her eyes closed, her hand continuously moving over skin, caressing each scar as if she was trying to memorise them by feel.

Not done, not done by a long shot...
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Unintentional Inveiglement