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Master of the Senses	By : shsa0702 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 29781 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the affiliated characters. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
This is now the third time I’ve sat down to finish this particular chapter. *grumbles*
So many ideas seem to be swirling around in my mind for this story that once I decide on a particularly good one, it seems to change and alter the course just enough that I need to go back and re-edit future chapters. The only plus side is that now I’ve got at least one and a half chapters nearly written with only some minor editing to do, so hopefully it won’t be as long before I post again.
Thank you so much to those of you that have reviewed!
Chester258 – Looking forward to giving you more! ;)
Dedicated_Reader – Being a science teacher probably puts me more in tune with observations using the 5 senses! Definitely contributed to the plot behind this story
SongOfMyHeart – Seeing that you’ve read some of my other works definitely gives me some pleasure (I’m horrible, I know)
NoJustice, Annecia89, and Book_Addict_89 – Glad to see you are all enjoying this so far!
On with the story!

Hermione spent the rest of the weekend staying true to her word, taking some time to explore around the familiar areas of the castle and its grounds. She found herself walking out and around the Quidditch pitch, along the line of the forbidden forest, and even one evening gazing up at the night sky from the astronomy tower. However, she couldn’t help herself from traveling to her most frequented spot from her days at Hogwarts; the library.
She had worried when she was younger that all of the books that resided in this area that she valued above all would forever go unread, since it was simply impossible to finish them all during her short seven years within the castle. Now Hermione had a new outlook, knowing that if she was to secure the Potions Master position she would have the rest of her life to work towards this accomplishment. She had even once read that this was the largest wizarding library that resided in all of Great Britain, and that only seemed to fuel her fire even further.
New books seemed to make her way back to her quarters each evening, and Hermione devoured them with a renewed appetite she didn’t know she had possessed. It seemed as if her recent passion for learning also kindled that spark that resided within her to use every resource available to further her mental encyclopedia of knowledge.
She became so absorbed that weekend between exploring the castle by day and finding new books to read at night that she had nearly lost track of the days. She was just returning to her quarters that Sunday evening after a thorough exploration of the grounds when she found the note sitting upon her desk in it’s sharp, neat writing much the same as it was before with only one noticeable difference.
Meet in the classroom at nine ‘o clock sharp tomorrow morning.
~S
Although she did not require a signature at the bottom to know who the note was from, she did find herself wondering whether he had thought of his first or surname when he had signed the initial below. Hermione felt a subtle heat creeping up her neck as she thought of the first and only time she had said his first name on its own and banished the thought from her mind as she went to prepare dinner.
Hermione felt that she was finally beginning to experience the familiar comforts of settling into a routine. Having a structured week along with a pleasant amount of free time on the weekend allowed her to give a little more balance to work and play than she had in the years before. She found that she actually enjoyed cooking, provided that she now possessed the means to do so for herself. Although she had expected the castle to bring back a flood of memories and serve as a means for her to re-explore her childhood, she also found that the castle possessed a whole new assortment of delights given her return at an older age.
Gone were the days of curfew and, although she had not yet felt the need, she could be out as late as she desired. Hogsmeade trips now became a voluntary visitation to and from the wizarding village as often or infrequent as she cared. Perhaps the most loveliest of all, which she discovered just the other day to her delight, was that there no longer remained a restriction on the Restricted Section in the library. What once served as an area that was strictly off-limits and only accessible with teacher permission now was open any time Hermione desired.
After dinner, in which Hermione indulged herself just a bit with a creamy pasta dish, she settled down for the evening in her favorite spot in front of the fire. Legs tucked underneath her and a heavy quilt wrapped around her shoulders, she cracked open her latest read Magical Plants of The Scottish Highlands.

~*---*~

The next morning Hermione arrived bright and early at Snape’s classroom. She sat herself at the same seat she had occupied last week and it felt nearly identical as the Monday before where she was not quite sure exactly what to expect. It was to be noted however that in place of the softly simmering cauldrons that had occupied the front desks of the room were a variety of jars, phials, and measurement instruments.
“Good Morning Miss Granger, this week we will be exploring the art of Potions through yet another singular sense.”
Hermione smiled, “Which will we be working with today Sir?”
“Today we will be using that which most Potioneers take for granted; the sense of sight.”
Hermione seemed a bit confused, how could he ask her to look at anything that she wouldn’t possibly have had experienced either in her years at Hogwarts or the Trade School?
Snape gestured towards the front of the classroom, and she stood. He smirked, “It should go without saying that there is no need to utilize the blindfold today.”
Hermione grinned as she made her way towards the front, but she would soon find that for all the strength she possessed in the sense of sight she now made up for with a level of blindness in the inability to use her other senses.
As they arrived at the first front table, Snape gestured towards the first set of jars. Contained inside each one was a singular ingredient.
“Each of these jars contains a partial ginger root. Every single jar contains the same ingredient as well as the exact same amount, however they have all been prepared differently. You will see that the preparation ranges from minced, sliced, dried, powdered, juiced, fresh, and so on. Your job is to rearrange them in order of least potent in the sense of magical properties to the strongest.”
Hermione nearly laughed; was this seriously all he asked of her to do? Well of course this would be easy.
She reached for the first jar which contained the powdered version of the root, but before she could close her hand around it she hesitated.
What if the juiced version was more potent that the dried?
She rationalized in her mind that the powdered root would be the obvious choice since it’s shelf life was longer and it would contain more potency in a smaller quantity as well, but Snape had said that each jar contained the same amount of root.
Her hand shifted now to the jar that contained the liquid, but again was caught off-guard when she eyed the piece of whole root that sat in the jar to her immediate left.
What properties does the pulp contain exactly that this ingredient could be juiced? Does the pulp account for any level of effectiveness?
She pulled her hand back altogether, and found herself studying the jars in a new light. Her basic instincts were all telling her that normally she would smell the whole piece of fresh root versus the juiced, weigh the amount needed of minced over sliced, and feel the texture and density of the powdered versus dried. However she knew that this was exactly the point Snape was trying to get across; when all of your other senses were eliminated, what could one use in its place?
Hermione was unexpectedly stumped. She looked at each jar in turn, but refused to cast her gaze towards Snape whom she could practically feel gazing upon her with an intense interest.
How on Earth can I determine the potency if I am unable to smell, taste, or touch any of the ingredients?
Hermione eyed each jar, and smiled as she recalled the day in her fourth year where Snape had instructed them to brew a Wit-Sharpening Potion. The directions had called for ginger root that day, although it required the ingredient to be sliced.
That’s it!
As Hermione eyed each jar, she saw each version of the ingredient being used in a different potion throughout her years of learning.
The minced amount of course would be utilized brewing a Beautification Potion, and since it is used instead of simply adding the powdered version which would be more ideal it must be more potent than an identical amount of the same ingredient in it’s powered or dehydrated form. This whole piece here is used in a Cure for Boils, but does the amount used counter-act the level of potency when considered against the juiced root?
After nearly half an hour, Hermione had placed the last jar in order. She smiled triumphantly as she finally turned towards Snape.
“Well done Miss Granger, please elaborate on how you were able to solve.”
Hermione launched into a heated description of how she compared each version of the root to it’s potency counterpart using a variety of potions, and cross referenced the potency with the amount utilized in each brew. After nearly a six minute explanation she had covered what drew her towards the first movement she made up until the last.
Afterwards, Snape moved her along from table to table where she was met by increasingly challenging tasks. One table required her to determine the freshness of a particular herb based upon appearance, another contained vials of the same potion brewed at various phases of the moon cycle. With each table she gained a stronger insight into not only how her visual evaluation of the ingredients and potions affected their efficiency, but also on how the environment could cause, what had been up until now, unforeseen alterations.
It was towards the end of their class on Wednesday afternoon when Hermione had just finished identifying which magical creature horn would be the most expensive based upon physical appearances that Snape inquired about the status of their next class once more.
“Miss Granger, last week we had chosen to take our final class of the week into the Great Hall. While it was my desire to do the same this week as well, I am currently in the middle of prepping a learning tool that would prove to be most useful on Friday should it turn out. Unfortunately it does require just an additional day, therefore I was hoping perhaps you would be willing to meet tomorrow at noon in lieu of the circumstance.”
“Of course Master Snape. Is there anything I can do to be of any assistance?”
The look on Snape’s face appeared to be almost that of an optimistic uncertainty. “All I ask is that you keep an open mind on Friday.”

~*---*~

To say Hermione wasn’t relieved to receive a break mid-week would have been a lie; Snape had been testing her mental capacity these last three days in ways she had never even dreamed of. It was almost like last week had been more physically taxing when she had to exert the abilities of her senses to make up for the lack of sight, smell, taste, and touch. This week she was utilizing her intelligence and prior knowledge to supplement what she had believed to be the strongest sense of them all. She would very readily admit that this week seemed almost harder in the sense that she had to apply more of herself in order to arrive at a correct answer.
She slipped on a comfortable pair of jeans along with a cream colored sweater. This week the sky was primarily overcast, and thus made the air feel that much cooler around her. She considered for just a moment changing when the over-sized sweater hung off of one shoulder, but decided against it as she remembered the laid-back appearance Snape had adopted last week with his rolled up sleeves and unbuttoned Oxford.
Hermione wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she spent just a fraction more time in the bathroom before heading to the Great Hall. She applied the usual lip gloss as well as mascara, but also took some time to add some eyeliner along the top lid and swipe a bit of blush across her cheeks. Not that she’d needed it; she found her cheeks sustained their natural color a bit too easily these days.
As she made her way through the entrance of the Great Hall, she was met with the familiar sight of Snape straightening the plates and goblets once more. She felt a familiar thrill as she realized that he donned an outfit much the same as the week before; comfortable black slacks and a white button up with the sleeves at the elbow.
Hermione made her way towards the front of the hall and as she approached, Snape gestured for her to take the bench seat across the table from him. Looking at the platter located between the two of them she saw that this week they were beginning with an assortment of cured meats, a different variety of cheeses, and a small heap of green and black olives.
Reaching forward to help themselves to an amount of each item, they began much in the same way as they had before. It wasn’t long before their conversation took them outside of Hogwarts.
“I find that so many of the rarer and more expensive potions ingredients take us outside the realm Great Britain; where is the most interesting place you have ever traveled Sir?”
Snape appeared thoughtful for a moment, but replied fairly quickly with, “The United States has its own curious customs about it. I traveled there once in my younger years before I had become a Potions Apprentice. I wanted to view all of the schools available to me, and there was one Academy there I considered.”
Hermione was fascinated; she just couldn’t picture someone like dark, brooding Professor Snape traveling around the world.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what ultimately caused your final decision in the end?”
Snape’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “I suppose it was the reputation that Great Britain covets for educating some of the greatest minds that the Art of Potions has even seen. In fact, I attended the exact same Apothecary and Trade School that you are currently acquiring your Mastery through right now.”
Hermione tried to picture a twenty-something year old Snape, but found that he just appeared strangely awkward and gangly in her mind. She found that she much preferred the Snape of present-day; his self-assurance almost seemed to be as much a vital part of his appearance as his trademark black hair.
They continued with their conversations, moving seamlessly onto their main course. This afternoon found them dining on platter of sandwiches accompanied by a light soup.
“So Miss Granger, have you found any part of Hogwarts much the same as when you had left it?”
“Well…it’s strange,” Hermione began, “The castle has the same feel and look to it, but there’s something…something I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s like the castle knows I have returned, but now that I am older the same practices have a different level of appeal to them. It’s like having spent all of my days at Hogwarts attending just in the morning, only to have returned now to find that it’s late afternoon.” Hermione laughed nervously. “I suppose that sounds absolutely absurd, doesn’t it?”
Snape looked at her strangely and replied quietly, “Not at all Miss Granger. It is only natural to assume that the time of day can generate a whole new host of shadows. It would be naïve to expect that they wouldn’t face the opposite direction, but also just as foolish not to expect them to be a mirror image of themselves.”
Hermione ate in silence, lightly blowing on the soup with each spoonful, both to cool it down as well as to pass the time and give her an excuse to process her thoughts. She considered Snape’s last statement and found that it could be applied to more than just her return to Hogwarts.
When they were close to finishing, Snape broke the silence. “Miss Granger, I was going to suggest that perhaps…since we have taken to our weekly luncheon becoming a regular occurrence, you would feel comfortable dropping the formalities since we are no longer residing within the classroom at this time.”
“Sir?”
Despite his proclamation of dropping the formalities, Snape looked quite fairly reserved as he said, “If you feel comfortable with it, I would have you address me as Severus when we are outside of the classroom.”
Hermione was a bit taken aback; wasn’t it just two weeks ago where he had insisted on being addressed by his proper title in the appropriate field? He had mentioned that it was a manner of respect, did this mean that their level of respect now allowed for a lower level of formality?
She displayed a timid smile as she replied, “I would like that very much Severus, as long as you take the same liberty with me and address me by my given name as well.”
“Very well Hermione, perhaps someday this manner in which we address ourselves will become more commonplace. Our Headmistress would be terribly remiss if she did not offer you a place of employment following the completion of your practicum.”
Hermione felt a smile radiate through her expression, “Well if that is indeed true, it is due in part to the fact that I had such an excellent instructor to help round out the conclusion of my education.”
After they had finished, Hermione placed her napkin delicately on top of her empty soup bowl. Strangely enough, she felt a bit reluctant that their afternoon was already over.
“That was delightful, I’m glad we’ve seemed to make a habit of going outside of the classroom. Until tomorrow Severus?”
“Indeed, I will expect you at the same time in the morning.”

~*---*~

The next morning Hermione awoke earlier than she originally meant to. Although it gave her plenty of time the next morning to get ready, she found that sitting idly in her kitchen was not something that gave her much peace of mind this Friday. She found herself wondering exactly what Snape had meant when he mentioned the learning tool they were going to be implementing; if Snape was teaching from the angle of the 5 senses what more could he possibly need than the senses themselves?
Hermione also did not need as much time to ready herself as she had the day before.   It didn’t make sense to deviate from the regular bun or ponytail that she had thrown her hair into the last two weeks in preparation for class, as well as the traditional black dress robes that she had taken to wearing. These items were sensible and practical, but she tried to tell herself that her slight addition of mascara and lip gloss were stemming purely from a sense of habit now.
After she had had her morning toast and tea, she settled down for the remainder of time to read one of the many books she had procured from the restricted section. When she found she could wait no longer she found herself making her way towards the classroom, even though she was at this point early.
When she knocked she was surprised to hear his voice call out ‘Enter’ so readily. He gave her a curious look upon entering, but he did not turn her away nor comment on the promptness of her arrival. Hermione was, however, surprised to find that there was nothing set out on any of the desks except a set of vials filled with a smoky-translucent liquid.
“Good Morning Master Snape.”
“Good Morning indeed Miss Granger, are you ready to begin?”
“Yes Sir,” Hermione glanced around the room pointedly, “Where would you like for us to begin?”
Snape smirked and gestured towards the vials. As he did so Hermione also took note of the slate gray leather notebook clasped in his other hand. “Today we will be continuing your study of the sense of sight, but today will be in a slightly…non-traditional way.”
Hermione joined him in his bemused expression, “I suppose that’s keeping directly in sight of your curriculum then.”
Snape waved his hand across the front of the container of vials, “What we have here is something I’ve been working on that could open up a world of possibilities. Let us start the lesson with a visual inquiry, what is it you suppose we have here Miss Granger?”
Hermione studied the vials carefully. She certainly knew what appeared to be in the vials, but was confident that they must contain a different liquid as this appeared to have more substance as well as a denser viscosity.
After studying the vials for a minute or two Hermione said, “I’m not sure this is something I’ve encountered before Sir. The liquid has similar properties to that of memories, drawn directly from the human mind to be deposited into a Pensieve. However this seems to also have some slight differences to it as well.”
Snape raised his eyebrows, “I was not sure if you were able to recall your brief encounter with the aforementioned Miss Granger or perhaps if you’ve experienced them in closer detail at a different point in time, but you are indeed correct. This particular potion has striking similarities to withdrawn memories because the purpose is intended to be much the same. These potions allow the users to access each other’s minds, however unlike memories they do not allow what is seen to be altered in any way.”
He looked towards the vials fondly, almost as if he were surprised he was able to concoct such a creation. “They also allow certain senses to be restricted based on the composition, these should in theory only allow us a visual experience. The users are able to be linked through means of the addition of a singular hair in each vial to be consumed, much like Polyjuice Potion except each vial requires a hair from each user. Knowing this Miss Granger, what do you believe is the main component utilized during brewing?”
Hermione grinned, “Knotgrass Sir. It has distinctive binding properties which supports its placeholder as the most prominent ingredient in Polyjuice Potion.”
“Correct. However, this potion is brewed using wand work related to that of Legilimency instead of the simplistic wand movements and incantations that Polyjuice requires. However this potion also differs in that again the two minds are simply open to each other involuntarily; Legilimency can create an environment in which a mind can be closed off if desired. It is also a notably difficult art if both parties are not practiced in it and even then it can be subject to alteration.”
Hermione was fascinated, although knowledgeable on the subject she had not explored much further into the theory behind Legilimency or the use of Pensieves. This was like getting a backstage pass to the experience of both.
“This has not yet been trialed Miss Granger, although I assure you that no measure of risk lies ahead of us. If you are willing, I would ask that we sample this potion to determine the efficacy as well as it’s practicality. Alterations can always be made, although I am fairly confident of the results of my brewing…”
“Of course Sir!” Hermione couldn’t contain her eagerness, “This could be history in the making, Potions require so many components to their creation that it is nearly unheard of in our recent history to be involved in the trial of such an addition.”
Snape’s mouth twitched almost as if to smile, but instead settled for an optimistic expression. “If my calculations and application are correct this Potion could serve a multitude of purposes. For example the Ministry could find this to be of great use in viewing memories of their employees during their work outside of the Ministry itself. It could also serve great purpose in the accuracy while viewing particular memories of inmates at Azkaban.”
Hermione couldn’t resist, she plucked out a two hairs and held each one over two different vials. “Shall we?”
Snape plucked his own in agreeance, and simultaneously they dropped them each into both. The hairs seem to disappear instantaneously, however the Potions took on what seemed to be two distinct colors in each vial before than began to swirl and combined. What originally appeared to be the darkest obsidian and nearly pastel periwinkle merged to form a deep violet.
Snape flipped open the notebook that he had been, up until this point, holding closed in his opposite hand. He grabbed a quill from the nearest desk and began to jot down in a hurried script what Hermione assumed to be the results of their addition. She waited until he had finished and set the notebook down, and followed suit as he carefully picked up a vial.
“From this point on Miss Granger my intentions of this creation while clear may not match the application in theory. There is always a small chance that there could be an variation in function.”
Hermione met his onyx gaze and held her vial up as if to toast. “I trust you Sir.”
Snape raised his own in response, with a determined expression tilted his head back as he consumed the contents. Hermione felt her heart flutter as she did the same. The immediate taste was not unpleasant, more curious in that fact that it resembled a vanilla bean with an accompanying fragrance that permeated throughout her nostrils, but left none of the lingering sweetness on her tongue.
Hermione waited, holding her breath with anticipation. She closed her eyes, and heard Snape’s neat but furious script upon the pages of his notebook. It could only be expected that, since this was uncharted territory, that he was taking notes on the immediate experience and results. Hermione found herself zeroing in on the sound, blocking out all else until…
Suddenly, like a dream blossoming in her mind’s eye she was met with the visual of Snape standing before her, however he was wearing different clothes than what he had on today. Taking only seconds to solidify into a scene as sharp and clear as if she had simply opened her eyes, Hermione took in her surroundings with immediate interest. Where there was once teacher robes now rested a simple black button up shirt along with his traditional black slacks. What really drew her attention however was the fact that the table that had only moments ago held only the vials was now littered with a variety of ingredients as well as a cauldron.
She was met with the strangest sensation when she realized there was a distinct lack of sound, smell, and touch. Glancing downward, she was surprised to find that she existed merely as a ethereal spectator; there was no visual representation of her body.   She found it strangely comparable to the experience of being under Harry’s invisibility cloak.
Not wanting to miss any of the particular memory that Snape had selected, Hermione did her best to focus on his actions as his brow furrowed in concentration. Paying particular attention to the ingredients being adding, Hermione took stock of all those laid out on the table in front of him. It didn’t take her long to decipher exactly which Potion Snape was brewing.
Hermione found herself wishing for a better angle with which to observe the contents of the cauldron, and she tested out the theory of walking around the table. She found that although there was no appearance of her actual physical self, her actions were not limited in a similar way. Soon she found herself standing directly in front of Snape himself, able to peer herself down into the cauldron. It was like she truly existed at that moment in time, the world and surrounding moment that had once only belonged to Snape was now her experience, at least in sight, for them to share.
Unable to take in anything other than through sight, Hermione now took stock of the ingredients as Snape selected each with a delicate familiarity; the wooden box that housed the razor sharp porcupine quills, a soft leather bag containing Sopophorus Beans, a lone Shrivelfig, as well as a few others. It was nearly breath-taking to watch, and she fully appreciated in this moment why it was called the Art of potion making. Now completely sure in which particular Potion he was brewing she settled back as she observed him, each step completed as an accurate prediction in her mind until towards the middle of his process where he grabbed a sprig of Peppermint and added it with confidence to his cauldron.
Now her curiosity was piqued, and she observed closely as he continued to make subtle changes. With each ingredient the potion progressed predictably through the colors of the rainbow. However they seemed somehow more intense, more vibrant than she had ever viewed before. Upon adding the Wormwood and stirring the final six times counter-clockwise Hermione heard a voice murmured almost directly into her ear.
“Open your eyes Miss Granger.” Almost like waking up directly from a dream, Hermione opened her eyes and she immediately found herself staring back at Snape as he was upon her arrival this morning.
“The application seemed to work well on my end. I was able to immediately conjure up the image of the memory I intended. I was able to do so provided I’m assuming you kept your mind clear?”
“Yes Sir, and the vision of your experience was clear nearly right away. You were brewing an Elixer to Induce Euphoria.”
“Very good Miss Granger. Now tell me, what else did you observe?”
Unable to contain herself, she launched into explanation of every minute detail that she observed was outside the normal brewing process listed in her Potions text. With each one, Snape countered by asking what possible purpose it could serve.
“And the Peppermint Sprig?”
Hermione thought hard, unable to smell the vapors or feel the change in heat, it was hard to determine the chemical change.
“…I suppose the awakening properties of the peppermint can help counter-act some of the less desirable effects of the potion.”
Snape raised an eyebrow in appreciation, and they continued their discussion until it was time for them to enter the next memory. They continued on in this fashion, Hermione viewing Snape’s memories of brewing with minor adjustments and then following each with a discussion. Hermione found it easier than she imagined to clear her mind and allow herself to be drawn into Snape’s, that is until they entered one particular experience.
It began much as the same as the others, however this one had Snape’s sleeves rolled up past the elbows much as he had during their weekly lunches in the Great Hall. It wasn’t difficult to see why; the table was littered with a variety of liquid ingredients in large glass jars and beakers; containers of Horklump juice and bright green cylinders of Flobberworm mucous were just beginning to sharpen into focus. If Hermione could have felt herself flush, she would have as she was reminded of her imagined fantasy in the tub where she had portrayed Snape’s forearms in a much different manner.
And suddenly the image transformed, and where there had only seconds prior been a variety of colorful potion ingredients as well as the tall, imposing image of Snape was now replaced with a hazy flickering, light. It was strangely familiar, and with a sudden realization of horror Hermione now recognized the familiar orange and yellow hues dancing across the stone walls of her bathroom…
“No, no, no….”
But as much as she wished to take it back, the imaged flooded before her like a container of spilled ink. Suddenly, there she was in all of her glory. Every detail was just as she remembered it, from the tendrils escaping from her hastily tossed-up bun to the small mound of bubbles that obscured her nakedness. The candlelight danced across the stone bricks as they alone provided the soft light that reflected her panic with that exact scene that now began to play out before her mind’s eye…and what she could only assume to be in Snape’s mind as well.
Although Hermione couldn’t hear it, she could see the rustling of her arms as she leaned back and reached downwards into the depths of the water. She saw her mouth part as she let out a sigh, and her eyes fluttered closed.
She tried in the awkwardness of her invisible form to open her eyes as she had done before, but it seemed that her lack of training in occlumency forced her to remain viewing what had, however unintentionally, been drawn towards the surface of her mind. She was sure now that what she had mistaken for confidence in the proficiency of her mind had actually been Snape’s, and now they were both stuck viewing what Hermione had previously considered a playful fantasy and now her worst nightmare.
Hermione watched with a weird sense of déjà vu as the mound of bubbles slowly rose and deflated with the slow, deep breath that she took, and then suddenly her chest hitched as her eyes flew open.
“Sweet Circe, this is where I realize it’s Snape in my head.”
Hermione felt the embarrassment swirl in her stomach as the version of her in her memory shook her head and grinned as she let loose a silent, nervous laugh.
She watched, almost with a shameful curiosity as her head tilted back once more against the edge of the tub and she saw the flush creep up her chest and along her neck. The mortification deepened even further as she realized the bubbles were beginning to disappear with her increasingly fervent ministrations under the water.
Hermione nearly felt, almost as if a humiliating ghostly echo, a pleasurable thrill course through her as the memory of her neared climax played out before her eyes. The flushed skin of her upper body glistened before her with the residue of bubbles long gone and the water as her chest heaved up and down with each breath. Finally, her back arched and if Hermione could’ve shut her eyes in embarrassment she would have as the tops of her breasts peeked out of the water as her body bowed in pleasure. It could almost have been considered beautiful with the dripping tendrils of hair framing her face and the rosy complexion of her breasts reflecting the flickering candle light.
However there was no need for sound as Hermione very clearly saw the name torn from her lips at the height of her climax.
“Severus!”
Almost, as if by dying candle light, the image flickered to black and Hermione reluctantly opened her eyes. As somewhat of an afterthought Hermione knew this must be the end of the potion’s length of effectiveness as each memory before had simply cut off sharp, like a channel changing on a television. Snape stood opposite her, staring back with an awkward look on his face and a strange burning intensity in his eyes.
“Miss Granger, I…it’s-“
For once in his life Severus Snape was speechless, and Hermione was sure she would have thoroughly enjoyed the moment had she not turned on her heel and fled.

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Master of the Senses