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Heating up Hogwarts	By : SweetTorments Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 24021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Professor Severus Snape strode into the Great Hall purposefully. He was starving. His body seemed to be going through food more quickly. He was using up all his energy simply standing still. The heart beating out of his chest and his almost constant shortness of breath was keeping his body hyped up and constantly at the ready. He didn't have to wonder why; his blood pressure wasn't the only thing that had risen, and stayed up, in the past few days.

His body was primed for sex.

He swept the hall with a particularly nasty glare. There she was, sitting with her friends. The bitch. Corresponding waves of lust and violence hit him at her sight. It just figured that something like this would happen with her. She was, perhaps, the only female in the entire school he couldn't coerce, intimidate, or command into doing his will. Oh, she was terrified of him. It was, quite possibly, the sexist thing about her. Her swells of fear rivaled those of her lust, and both washed over him in intense ripples. Unfortunately, she'd currently stumbled her way into not only overwhelming lust, but also increased physical and magical abilities. That she might be as strong as he was—stronger—sent his every instinct for dominance snarling to the surface.

He was enraged at his show earlier. Everything had gone as he wanted it, naturally. He had what he wanted, a pacified and nearly content Granger. So, why did he feel so angry, so dirty? He'd really had no choice. She needed some semblance of normalcy, and he needed her content enough to shut the hell up and stay out of his hair. He'd fuck her little birdbrain into oblivion a couple times a week. Hopefully, that would be that.

His nails dug into his palm, the pain flooded him, and he squeezed harder. At the back of his mind, he knew his thinking was dangerously vicious and useless; he knew even that his hand was no longer easing his overwhelming lust and the pheromones were to blame for his erratic, violent mood. Regardless of the emotions' source, he worked himself into a seething rage as he glared at her, every instinct demanding he take what was his.

It absolutely infuriated him that he had to seduce her. Not in the traditional way, granted. He didn't have to make her want to go to bed with him; he just had to convince her it was okay. That she was the one absolutely at fault and he was the one petting her ego rankled, but her innocence made it necessary. So, he played the logical professor. He'd considered, briefly, just shoving her against a tree and taking the edge off their lust. Yet somehow, he knew he'd be setting himself back that way. Now, she had time to think about the situation, her lust a constant reminder of him. When she finally crawled to his knees and begged for his touch, he would take her. Then there would be no doubt about who was in control.

Dumbledore joined them at the table, and the meal began to appear. He gave his impression of a smile to Dumbledore, nodded to McGonagall, and began to eat. He truly was starving. As he took a bite of his chicken, his mind went back to earlier events.

He'd played her today—it was the simple truth. He'd given her what she needed. He hadn't been pleasant. There was no need. It would have only made her suspicious. He'd just been understanding, fair, and logical. So, she was nice and complacent as he suggested exactly what she do. The headstrong, dominant creature would never have taken his orders or even his advice. Yet, all he had done was commiserate with her and awaken her need to protect, and she had allowed herself to do precisely what he suggested. With a roll of his eyes, he admitted that it was exactly what she had wanted to do, from the start.

Still, he knew it was wrong, even felt a miniscule twinge of remorse. He was, more or less, tricking a student into months of sex with him. Professor Snape paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, and grinned. His remorse was even more miniscule than he'd imagined.

*********************

Hermione glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She'd been in the bathroom for over an hour. A few minutes ago, Draco had come to demand she leave it. After five minutes of banging, several rounds of name-calling, and a good kick to the door, he'd wandered off to sulk. It was six o'clock, time for his nightly bath. He'd pout for days. It would make sharing a suite with him miserable. Luckily, she was already miserable, and nothing he did could make it worse.

Redirecting her attention, she stared into the mirror again. She was completely naked, besides a pair of white ankle socks. After analyzing herself for so long, the image was starting to look bizarre. Still, she didn't see anything too horrible. A razor and shaving gel rested on the bathtub rim. She'd already shaved her legs and underarms. For the first time, she wished she knew the charms that girls like Pansy or Lavender knew. She was too embarrassed to ask them, so she'd just have to do it the regular way.

She'd completed the tasks with as little thought as possible. It was too easy to let the panic swell, if she thought about it. The reality, that she was grooming herself for Professor Snape, was always at the back of her mind.

A weird sound came out of her lotion bottle when she pumped the lever. She smoothed the lotion over her leg quickly, trying to ignore the sensations that followed.

The restlessness was back. She was nervous and fidgety. With every quick swipe of her hand, she knew she was becoming more turned on. Only, this hunger was worse. This time, she knew she could end it, if she was brave enough.

Two days into the situation and he had already given up. Now, he seemed more than ready to deal with her lust. He'd made the concession to logic, and saved himself having to lose control. Truthfully, she thought the demands of his body were getting to him. Whatever his reasons, he'd saved them all a lot of effort. She hadn't even had to seduce him, much.

Even now, knowing what the inevitable outcome would be, she wasn't brave. For the time being, she'd rather wallow in lust than be face-to-face with Professor Snape again. Things were too up in the air, and as much as she wanted to be with him, it was stupid to torture herself with his nearness.

What she'd said was true. She needed time. The situation had taken longer to resolve in her head. She'd had a few more days to get used to the idea. Now, it was shoved in her face. She was going to sleep with Professor Snape, the same man that mocked and ridiculed her.

It was her first time. She wondered if he knew that. She'd always imagined it being with someone she loved. It was supposed to be beautiful and perfect, special.

She watched, in the mirror, as one giant teardrop slid down her face. She didn't brush it away, or hide from her disappointment. What was the use? The whole situation was almost surreal, the repercussions too large for such a small mistake. In an instant, her childhood had been taken from her.

Resolutely, she scooped up the razor and turned back to the mirror. The curly mound of hair atop her thighs was out of control, and with a pained look on her face, Hermione lowered the razor.

***********************

She could hear the noise from the Great Hall before she got to the bottom of the stairs. She was well and truly late. She was also in, perhaps, the worst mood ever. She could be logical and realize she'd been in a miserable mood these last few days, but today had reached a whole new low. After getting almost no sleep, some latent feminine whim had convinced her to fuss with her hair. After all the shaving and primping of the night before, she'd felt brave. Clearly, that had been a misplaced emotion. Now, she was late. She also looked like her hair had been dunked in lard. She had finally wrestled it back into a tight bun. The curl was gone. So, in one respect, she'd succeeded. Oddly shiny, and hard to the touch, wasn't really what she'd hoped for, though.

On top of it all, she was desperately tired. This morning had also brought a personal low. She'd used the word "horny" in an internal dialogue. And she'd been describing herself!

She entered the Great Hall with angry, purposeful steps. Imperiously, she swept the entire room with a contemptuous sneer before stalking to her table. It felt like everyone was watching her. Well, let them watch. Let them snicker and gossip. The only reason anyone even noticed her change in mood was because she wasn't fawning all over Harry and Ron. Either that, or they had unfinished homework because she wasn't there to lead them through it. It was quickly becoming apparent that she had few real friends. They could all go straight to hell!

*************************

Classes were finally over for the day. Neither Ron nor Harry had attempted to talk to her since breakfast. Frankly, it was one of the most intelligent things they'd done in a while.

Potions had gone smoothly. Well, from her point of view. The class was severely cowed by Snape's continual erratic behavior, and remained oddly obedient. Draco looked ashen and morose. He spent the class period much as she did, head bowed and quiet. Thankfully, Snape was the one professor who wasn't casting her worried looks or calling on her. She hadn't raised her hand in days, but that didn't stop the others.

"Hermione." Ginny came out of the bathroom and grabbed her shoulder quickly.

"Ginny?" She pulled herself to a stop and turned slowly to face the other woman. Frantically, it required every bit of patience and feeling of friendship she could find.

This was Ginny! She liked Ginny.

"Did you try to do your hair?" she asked with a grin. "It looks horrible."

"Yeah, thanks," she muttered. Hermione reached up and probed at the odd texture of her hair. It was pretty horrible. Still, she couldn't believe Ginny would say that. Didn't the younger woman realize what a horrible mood she was in?

"I'm so proud of you!" She reached out and touched her arm again, excitably.

"Don't get too worked up. It didn't go very well," Hermione said, dryly.

"Well, no, but that's not the point. Anyway, I have a charm you might want to use." She rolled her eyes. "I got it from Lavender when I caught her snogging Dean in the hallway, after curfew."

"Oh, I don't know." She was suddenly embarrassed to be the girl's charity case. She and Ginny weren't exactly close, and now probably wasn't the time to bond.

"Come on! We'll walk out to the lake." Her voice suddenly lowered, like they were conspirators. "We'll chat."

Hermione stared at the girl. For long seconds, she did nothing but look at her oddly. Ginny suddenly trying to make friends was suspicious, but that's not what made Hermione pause. The really strange part was, she was tempted to go. For days, she'd avoided her friends. The sight of them made her want to draw blood, to figure out how to unsheathe her nails and slice skin from their bodies like a banana peel. Yet, the feel of Ginny, standing close and occasionally touching her, was pleasant. Then it hit her, and she felt like an idiot for not knowing the answer already.

Ginny was female. Ron and Harry were boys. The effects of the potion made her choice clear. Mainly, by making her hate every other male near. She was still tired and acutely uncomfortable. Still, she didn't want to strangle Ginny to make sure the girl could never speak again. And, as far as Hermione was concerned, that was a big step in the right direction.

"Sure, Ginny. Let's go for a walk."

***********

An hour and a half later, they were sitting beneath a cove of big trees. The forest was only feet away, and its tranquil energy called to her. Hermione had never been to this part of the grounds before. They couldn't even see the castle anymore. On the way, they'd talked about simple things. Ginny did most of the talking, with Hermione content to listen. Ginny had also used a charm to clean her hair, and then a charm that, miraculously, tamed her out-of-control curls. It was anything but perfect, but even without a mirror, Hermione could tell it was better than anything she had managed.

She felt better than she had in days. The presence of Professor Snape both calmed and frustrated her, but the nearness of Ginny was a step back toward normalcy. Instinctually, she knew none of the other girls would have the same effect. They were annoying when she was in a good mood!

"So, did Harry and Ron put you up to this?" Hermione asked when the conversation lagged.

"Oh, um...." Ginny colored and looked away. "They're worried about you, Hermione."

"I know," she said softly. With the appropriate amount of space between them, Hermione could remember that she loved them, that she valued their friendships. "I'm just going through something right now. It's nothing that they can fix, or even influence. I still like them, and if they need anything ... I'll do it. I just can't be around them, not right now."

"What's going on? You can trust me. I won't tell anyone." Ginny cocked her head to the side and waited, a sympathetic look on her face.

And in that instance, Hermione wanted to tell her. She'd never been an affectionate person, but she wanted to share her problems and take comfort in Ginny. She wished the girl would give her a hug. She opened her mouth, still not sure what she was going to say, when a noise behind them distracted her.

"Where were you? I tried to contact you for over an hour!" Lucius Malfoy stormed out of the forest and stalked toward his son. Draco was standing, not ten feet away, in the clearing.

"Granger refused to get out of the bathroom. I'm sorry." His voice was rigid and furious.

"Really, you're sorry? Are you sorry you summoned me here, like a servant?" Lucius reached his son, and with a cruel sneer, backhanded him. The sound echoed in the clearing. Draco staggered back. He took a deep breath and straightened, wiping the blood from his lip with one hand.

"I'm not doing this anymore, Father. I refuse to fight a war that can't be won."

Hermione held her breath. The silence in the clearing grew, and she prayed they couldn't hear her heart. Lucius was looking at his son like an insect, and one that needed to be squashed. Draco stood straight, imperialistic, as more blood gathered on his lip and slipped down his chin slowly. Both men were silent except for their labored breathing. Lucius was glaring into his son's eyes, and Draco was glaring back defiantly. Hermione realized suddenly that Lucius was using Legilimency. Draco was not only allowing it, he was encouraging it. He was glaring up into his Father's eyes, a look of pure hate on his face.

"When I look at you, Father, all I feel is contempt. You're pathetic." He spoke quietly and evenly. "I won't get the Dark Mark. Not tonight, not ever. I won't do your bidding or his."

"Fine, Draco. That's your choice." Lucius spoke, equally quiet.

For a long moment, they stood there, watching each other. Then Draco turned and took a step away.

"Crucio!" Lucius cursed in an enraged voice.

Draco stood, his back to them, for what seemed an eternity. His body shook; they could see that from where they stood. Finally, Lucius twitched his wand to the side and Draco fell to his knees in the grass. His deep gasps were all that filled the clearing. His hand grasped for his wand, but the attempt was futile and too slow.

"Crucio!" Lucius spoke again.

Draco rolled onto his back. His body was convulsing with the curse. He was remained silent though, not uttering a sound. A minute passed, and Draco started twitching.

Hermione watched in horror. When Lucius let up the second curse only to start on the third, she started forward involuntarily. She hated Draco, but she couldn't let this happen. She just couldn't. She didn't even get to her knees before Ginny pulled her back down, by her hair. Ginny shook her head wildly.

"It's Lucius," she barely spoke, as if that were all that needed said.

And it was. If she knew more about her new powers, she might have been able to help. But now, as she was, Lucius Malfoy would kill her. Worse, he would find Ginny, and kill her too. She couldn't do anything. Nothing but watch.

Draco began to whimper and sob. Hermione felt her own tears fall as she watched the scene. Lucius still held his sneer. There was no regret on his face, no hesitation. He ended the curse again, let Draco adjust to the lack of pain, and then issued it again. He screamed. Draco Malfoy, one of the most powerful and highly skilled wizards of their year, was convulsing on the ground. He was stripped of his superiority, screaming in pain.

Hermione felt herself slipping away. She was shaking, almost more than Draco was. Her breathing was ragged; the taste of tears was in her mouth. Somewhere along the line, her nails had lengthened into weapons. They were buried in the flesh of her palm. Blood pooled in the crevasses of her fingers. She couldn't think. Anger, and sadness, and grief overpowered her mind. She could do nothing to stop it, nothing at all, so she watched. And she listened.

He had bit his lip, or his tongue, and blood was leaking out of his mouth. He convulsed and screamed, the sound like nothing she had ever heard. Then Lucius lowered his wand. He stared down at his son for long minutes. Hermione found herself holding her breath, terrified and enraged. She couldn't stop shaking, even though Ginny had pulled her close to her chest.

"You were a Malfoy! Why couldn't you remember that?" Lucius growled, absolute hate filling his voice. He raised his wand hand again.

Draco whimpered. He looked scared. He was quivering, out of fear or pain, she didn't know. His eyes were open and too wide. Tears ran down his face, mixing with the blood.

"Avada...." Lucius began.

Hermione gasped inward. Then, everything within her exploded outward.

"Ked..."

An animal, huge and dark, slammed into the older wizard. He went flying through the air, and the instant he landed, the animal was on him again. It was a cat. A Spirat. It howled with rage, and sunk its teeth into Lucius' collarbone. He let out a screech, and with a popping noise, he was gone.

Hermione was racing across the clearing before Ginny could even stand. It seemed to take her forever to get to Draco's side. She went straight down, to her knees. Then she hovered. Not even a foot from him, she didn't know if she could touch him. He was so still. His chest was barely moving, but it was moving. He was alive. Blood had drifted into his extremely blonde hair. Even such a small quantity looked gruesome. She could also see that his entire body was shaking minutely, as if every muscle was spasming.

She finally lowered a hand to his shoulder. She needed to feel that he wasn't as fragile as he appeared. Her fingertips met the fabric of his shirt hesitantly. His body convulse again, as if the curse was back on him. Hermione snatched her hand away and reared back. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. His eyes snapped open, but there was no recognition in the gray pools. Then, he was struggling to sit up and escape.

"Wait, wait, Malfoy." She caught one bony shoulder and spun him around. "It's me. It's Granger. Your Dad's gone."

"Granger? What the hell are you doing here?" he asked in a growl. He made a quick search of the clearing, looking for Lucius. Then, he collapsed.

"Ginny?" Hermione turned around to find Ginny standing behind her. "Stay with him. I'm going to get help."

"What about that animal? What if it comes back?" Ginny demanded, her usual good humor gone.

"God, I don't know." Hermione remembered the Spirat for the first time and looked around the clearing. "Did you see what happened to it?"

"You ran right by it! It just watched you for a minute, and then it wandered away. What if it comes back?" She was glancing between Draco and the Forbidden Forest.

"I really don't think it will." Hermione threw another look at Draco and then stood. "You have your wand. Watch the forest."

With that, Hermione turned and began to run. They were at least half an hour's walk from the castle. She could make the trip faster than anyone else. Once she began to run, the distance was eaten quickly. At first, the pace was normal. As her body began to tire, her adrenaline kicked in. Soon, she was moving unnaturally fast, as she had when the Spirat had chased her. Her body was slipping into the familiar feeling of her primal self, but then the castle was before her.

She took the steps at a run and flew into the castle. Without thought, or any question, she zeroed in on the location of Professor Snape and moved toward him. It was Draco. Even if none of this had happened, Snape was the obvious choice.

It was dinnertime. Everyone was in the Great Hall.

She barged into the crowded hall and every noise immediately fell away. All eyes were on her as she slowed to a quick walk and half-jogged to the long row of professors. Every one of them was on their feet before she reached the table. With single-minded determination, she came to a direct halt two feet from Professor Snape. She looked directly up at him, his face devoid of any emotion, and spoke.

"It's Draco," she said plainly.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" McGonagall asked.

"Let Severus handle this, Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly.

Before Dumbledore had even spoken, Professor Snape was around the table. He cast her a significant look, and then started toward the entrance of the Great Hall. She struggled to keep up. She might be faster than he was when running, but his gait was considerably longer. They reached the hallway, and he turned to leave the castle without hesitation.

"Wait, how did you..." she began.

"I always know where you are," he snapped back. "Is he hurt?"

"Yes. It was Lucius." She wanted to say more, but Snape had taken her wrist in his large grip and was hauling her down the steps.

"This way." He turned and started to walk quickly toward the lake.

"That's the wrong way," she struggled to say.

"Don't argue with me!" he snapped and picked up the pace again.

He stalked right into the lake. The water was lapping at their shins when he stopped. She wanted to snap at him, or question his sanity. Instead, she remained silent. Though they looked like utter idiots, she trusted that he had a plan. His hand caught her chin and tipped her face up, to catch her gaze. It was intensely intimate, looking directly into his eyes. She lost her train of thought, just for a second, before she reeled herself back in.

"This is the closest point I can Apparate from," he explained quickly. "I want you to relive the events in your head. Pay special attention to the scenery. I need to know where to go."

The instructions were simple. The unstated urgency in his words made her focus sharp. At that moment, it was the most important thing in the world to take away his anxiety. She would get him there. She didn't know how hurt Draco was, and she couldn't allow him to die. Not now that she'd learned he was worthy of life. She nodded quickly and delved into her memories, trying to make them crisp and clear. The moment Professor Snape entered her mind was obvious. She forced her eyes wide and concentrated. She relived the argument, and was to the point where she was rushing forward. Then a strange sensation hit and when she opened her eyes, she was standing in the clearing.

"Draco?" Professor Snape made his way over to his student. Ginny took several steps away, to give the man more room.

"I think he's unconscious," Ginny said quietly.

Snape didn't respond. He was crouched down beside Draco, surveying him with a quick scan of his eyes. A moment later, he scooped up the prone body and slung it over his shoulder. He sent a hesitant glance to Hermione.

"You'll have to walk back." His voice offered no alternatives, and in the next instant he was gone.

"What a git," Ginny muttered.

"Apparation isn't meant as a bus service, Ginny," Hermione scolded without any heat. "We'd better start back."

***************************

Hermione finally ditched Ginny inside the castle doors and set off at a quick walk for Snape. It had nearly killed her to walk. Alone, she could have made the distance in a third of the time. She was halfway to her suite when she realized that was where Snape, and presumably Draco, was. She snapped the password, but entered their common room sedately. Immediately, she heard voices in Draco's room. The door was open, and with a few more steps into the common room, she could see the blonde lying on his bed. Professor Snape was standing over him.

"Now that Madam Pomfrey's healed me, are you going to curse me again?" Draco asked quietly, his tone defiant.

"I wouldn't deny Lucius the pleasure," Snape answered coldly.

Hermione had already decided to leave them, and go to her room, when she heard the exchange. The words froze her in place. Very quietly, she edged out of sight, and listened.

"You're disgusting. You lord over a bunch of school children, and snivel at The Dark Lord's feet. I should tell Dumbledore all about you. Maybe I'll go to the Daily Prophet, tell everyone everything." He was glaring at Snape, almost daring him to do something.

"You're a fool, Draco." Snape grabbed the neck of his robes, and pulled Draco's face close to his sneering one. "I've been forced to stomach you. For Lucius' sake, I've given you grades you didn't deserve. I'd prefer not to dirty my hands with your blood, but if you open your mouth, I'll make your little encounter today look like a pleasure cruise."

"You think I'm afraid of you?" Draco did his best to growl the words. In one smooth motion, Snape pulled his wand and focused it on Draco's chest.

"Crucio!" Snape uttered the command as if bored. Hermione cringed when Draco immediately began to scream. She was too shocked to move. Thirty seconds later, he stopped just as suddenly as he'd started.

"Quite a bit more powerful than your father's, if I remember right." Snape sneered into the abrupt silence. "Don't test me, Draco, and don't force my hand. You won't like what happens."

With that, he turned and stalked out of the room. He didn't even pause as he moved past her and out of the suite. The air in the common room seemed cold and oppressive. For several seconds, she just stared after him, frightened and angry. When she snapped out of her stupor, she rushed into Draco's room. He snarled, insulted, and demeaned her, all the while, ordering her to fetch him things for the night ahead. For once, she reigned in her temper and did what he said without complaint. All her attention was focused elsewhere, floors beneath them, with Snape.
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Heating up Hogwarts