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Broken Dreams	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34536 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, own nothing of Harry Potter, haven't met any of the people (except Alan Rickman and sadly that was brief)

Chapter List
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A/N: So this chapter has more naughty stuff...but I don't think you mind, do you? Should I keep it to a minimum? (hehe couldn't if I tried). Thanks again for the lovely reviews in particular to one that said it felt like forever that she waited for an update. If four days between my updates felt like forever to you, then I will take that as a compliment!! :)

To say that Hermione was on edge after her conversation with Ginny was an understatement. She desperately wanted to ask Severus about the spell he'd used on her, as the memory of her insides imploding were forever emblazoned into her mind.

However, as it were, fate was not on her side for the entire week. Two of the professors had fallen ill, and it was up to Severus to take over their nightly patrols. They still met in his office after supper, soon after going to his private room, but their time had been cut short. The time they would usually be heading to bed was when Severus had to make his way back out into the drafty corridors of Hogwarts.

The first few nights Hermione tried to wait up for him, but her busy days had her lightly snoring by the time he returned to his room.

By Friday morning, Hermione felt anxious and ornery, ready to hand out detentions for the slightest infarction. Ginny had even noticed her less than lackluster mood, and suggested that she needed to draw the curtains around her bed and reintroduce herself to herself.

The grey and rainy skies failed to improve her attitude. Adding insult to injury, Slughorn left Hermione alone with the second years, claiming that 'he wouldn't be but a moment'.

"Sure you will," Hermione grumbled underneath her breath as the portly man ambled out of the classroom.

Heaving a sigh she walked around, checking on each student's cauldron to make sure everything was going properly. Morosely making her way through the room, she went through the motions of correcting stirring techniques, or suggesting the best method to prepare herbs.

A loud knock was issued at the classroom door. Hermione looked over and saw Hagrid's burly figure shuffling sideways through the entrance.

"Hello Miss Granger!" he greeted with a wink. "Brought yeh summat," he said, bearing an armful of long, green stems.

"Oh, my daisy roots, thank you Hagrid," she said gratefully taking them from him.

The day before, Hermione had gone round to Hagrid's hut for tea, after which he was going to help her pick the flowers. Once they'd started chatting, she'd forgotten all about the daisy roots and went back to the school empty handed.

"Look at yeh, mindin' a class on yer own, why it makes me feel old!" he said good-naturedly, proudly looking at Hermione at then at the cluster of students.

"Hagrid," she replied smiling, still looking at him when she noticed a flurry of movement. "Five points from Hufflepuff! Now put that away Miss Lang," she called without turning to a student that was about to sneak the latest copy of Young Witches Weekly to her friend.

"Blimey, it's like yer already a professor!" Hagrid chuckled.

"Yes, well, for all intents and purposes I am," she replied quietly enough so that only he was able to hear. "I'm sure you're privy to a certain professor's proclivities."

Hagrid nodded in comprehension, turning one foot to walk out. "All righ' then, I won't keep you from yer students."

"Thanks again, Hagrid," Hermione called as he squeezed back through the door.

Making her rounds again she caught the young witch that she'd just chastised giving her a defiant look. Hermione raised one eyebrow, staring back intently at Miss Lang before her eyes went back down to her cauldron.

Later that afternoon Hermione was in the midst of brewing Invigoration Draught for the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey claimed that the stores were depleting faster than usual, most likely due to overworked students studying for their upcoming exams.

She was shoving the cork in the last labeled vial and looked up, seeing the headmaster standing in front of her.

"Make some noise, for goodness sake!" she chirped, reeling from fright.

"As if it's my fault that you are extremely unobservant," Severus drawled. He then placed a book down on the work table and pushed it towards her. "This is for you to read tonight when you retire to your chambers."

His subtle phrase of 'your chambers' wasn't lost on Hermione. She was overjoyed to have the book on hand, as her eyes silently begged to snatch the book out of Severus' hands whenever he was reading it. He told her that she was more than welcome to it when he was finished, and to stop gawping at him like some deranged harpy.

Hermione knew better than to protest about the fact that she had to spend her evening alone, but one would only have to glance to notice the disappointment in her eyes . Severus then turned in a flurry of black robes, leaving the young witch alone in the laboratory to silently pout.

Luna and Ginny came to Hermione's room that evening after supper. Ginny was going on about the upcoming Quidditch game she was playing in, and Luna had wistfully stated that she'd love to commentate again.

Hermione's friends served as a mild distraction until they had to return to their common rooms. She kept remembering the aftereffects of the counter spell that set every one of her synapses on fire, and there was a constant heat burning between her legs.

Now alone in her bed, Hermione sat with Severus' borrowed book in her lap. She found it hard to focus on the printed words, instead turning the book on its side and poring over the scribbled notes that filled nearly every margin.

When Hermione first saw Severus' old Potions text that had unerringly fallen into Harry's hands, she chided herself when she didn't notice the familiar spidery letters that had been scrawled across each page. Now that she spent time in his private quarters, she found that nearly each tome in his possession had the same handwriting gracing almost every page.

More often than not she'd become engrossed in his additions. Sometimes she was unable to make out his slanted handwriting and mumbled in displeasure that she didn't know what the words said.

Severus merely gave her a sardonic glance, replying that that was the point.

Hermione huffed in annoyance, setting down the book on her duvet. Her eyes burned, letting her know that she needed to sleep, yet she knew it wasn't that easy. She'd become used to sleeping next to Severus in his bed, and now her own felt odd and desolate.

Yawning and rubbing at her eyes, Hermione used her wand to slightly dim the lights, telling herself that she'd rest for a moment before resuming her reading.

Hermione in fact dozed off, and slept for a few hours. Turning over, she burrowed her face in her pillow, the scent of sage and sandalwood at her nose.

"Hmm, Severus," she mumbled sleepily.

"Yes?"

Opening her eyes, she saw that the lights were out in her room. Severus was lying next to her in bed, his head resting comfortably on her rose motif, ruffled pillow.

Smiling, she pulled herself closer to him and pressed a kiss onto his pajama covered chest. "I thought I wasn't going to see you tonight."

"I never told you that. I merely gave you a book to occupy yourself with in your room," he replied, bringing an arm around Hermione's body and letting his hand rest on her lower back. "It's Friday night and the students know that we're slightly short staffed. I was positive that some were going to be up to their usual antics. Of course, I was right."

"So was sort of calamity did you encounter tonight?"

"Two sixth years, half-dressed, in a darkened classroom."

"Goodness! Although, I guess it would be hypocritical of me to-"

"Hermione, you're of age and at the very least discreet. That bloody boy had his hand up her skirt, and she was anything but quiet."

"These students are bold. The most I thought going on was you catching students snogging in the rose bushes, like at the Yule Ball."

"Snogging my arse. Stebbins would have had Fawcett up the duff had I not caught them in time."

"They weren't the only ones," Hermione said, remembering how a handful of her classmates had gone to lurk in dark alcoves or other private areas with the boys from Durmstrang.

A chuckle rumbled in Severus' chest. "I think I'd given out more detentions that night than I've given that entire school year," he commented. "I notice I didn't have to pry you apart from that Durmstrang boy."

"That's because he knew I'd have hexed him if he touched me. On top of that, Ronald was being a prat and I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone after the ball. All I wanted to do was take off my stupid heels and go to bed."

"The flighty temperament of young men. They're worse than a young besotted witch that's been slighted by her weekly paramour."

Hermione laughed, burrowing her face into the crook of Severus' arm. "Can I ask you something?"

"Only if you make it fast, which, knowing you, is an unlikely feat. Just keep in mind that I'm exhausted and would like to sleep at some point."

"That night when I touched the book...and then you...was that normal? How did you do that without touching me?"

"You would delve into the heavy topics at three in the morning," Severus griped. "I'm assuming you mean the fact that I made you achieve an orgasm, correct?"

His easy mention of it sent a flush of warmth throughout her body. "Yes," she answered shyly.

"I know that you already have a certain knowledge about the Dark Arts. As you know, part of that involves curses that are irreversible. On the other hand, there are some that can only be reversed by using Dark magic. The particular counter spell I used on you transferred the negative energy into something else."

"I didn't know that was possible."

"Torture doesn't always involve pain, Hermione. There is more than one way to make someone bend to your will."

Hermione wondered if he was offhandedly referring to dealings in his past as a Death Eater, but knew better than to ask.

"But how did it make me..."

"Because I wouldn't lift the spell. I could have stopped once you were no longer in pain but I chose not to. Now use your intellect, what would be the complete opposite of the agony that you were experiencing?"

Something clicked in her mind, and she gasped in acknowledgement.

"Nothing you'd find a text on in Madam Pince's library, even in the restricted section," he commented dryly. "Though, I'm sure you chanced a look anyway."

"Of course I didn't. How would I have explained that?" she shot back. "Can you imagine? The ornery woman would have probably expired on the spot."

"You're most likely right. She's been here since the school was built."

"That was the first time I've experienced that," Hermione confessed after a while.

"What, being cursed or the orgasm?"

Hermione heaved a sigh. "I meant the latter, but both I suppose."

"Well, that explains a lot," Severus replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, that's the reason for your pinched little face since you've returned. I noticed it was more severe all week. You've look as if you were ready to brandish your wand at the first offender that crossed your path. What's wrong Hermione? Unable to put out those fires?"

"Well it isn't for lack of trying!" she retorted. "Merlin knows I've tried, and it doesn't help that whenever I think about that night..."

"Do you mean to tell me you're twenty years old and still don't know how to get yourself off?"

"You sound just like Ginny," she grumbled, eyeing the smirk on Severus' face.

His look darkened slightly after her comment. "I know you weren't daft enough to-"

"No, of course not!" she interjected. "I'd just asked her if she'd ever had an orgasm because I thought I did, but wasn't sure."

"The sky is surely going to fall," Severus replied. "Little know-it-all Hermione Granger actually doesn't know something."

Hermione glowered, then turned and peered up expectantly at Severus in the dark.

"Banish the thought, Hermione. The only way you'll find release will be at your own hand."

"But I just told you I don't know how!"

Severus cursed underneath his breath, mumbling something about not being able to get any sleep.

"Take your knickers off," he said sharply.

"What?" she asked dumbly.

"It's bad enough that you're depriving me of steady rest that I've already gotten used to, but must you visit simple in the process? Take the knickers off."

Hermione silently did as she was told , reaching beneath the duvet and her nightgown to remove the garment. She then lay back on her own pillow, tense with nervousness and anticipation. "Now what?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with your clitoris, or perhaps you need me to conjure up a torch and mirror for you to find it?"

"Of course I know where it is," she snapped, her voice wavering slightly.

"Then what's the delay? Take your right hand, or left - your preference - and carry on."

Hermione tentatively slid her right hand down and between her legs, her fingertips easily meeting the sensitive nub at the top of her sex. She waited for Severus to say something else, yet he remained silent. Figuring that he was waiting for her to continue she closed her eyes and began rubbing the way she had before, in the privacy of her bedroom.

"Miss Granger, is your purpose to start a fire?" she heard Severus ask softly.

Opening her eyes she turned to look at him, seeing one eyebrow arched inquisitively.

"But I'm doing the same thing I did when I tried it before," she explained.

"Surely you're familiar with the Muggle expression 'the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.'"

"Yes, Einstein. What's your point?"

"You flippant little-get up."

Hermione huffed in exasperation and pushed herself to kneel up in the bed. She watched as Severus arranged two of her pillows against the headboard. He then pulled Hermione to sit between his legs, her back against his chest before reclining against the headboard. She made no move to protest when his hands went to her thighs, pulling at her nightgown.

"Wait a minute," she said, feeling the fabric trapped beneath her weight. Hermione shifted to her knees, instantly causing Severus to almost growl when her heel came precariously close to his manhood.

"Sorry," she said when she'd settled back against him, her nightgown now rucked up high on her body.

"Now try it again, but at a less hurried pace," Severus told her. "It's not a bloody race, you're meant to savor each sensation."

Inhaling deeply, Hermione lowered her hand between her legs again. She forced herself to go slower, until a few minutes later Severus' hand gently caught her wrist and pulled it to rest on her stomach.

"You need to relax," he said in a low, husky voice, his warmth breath blowing across the back of her neck. "You were plenty relaxed the night you boldly tried to touch me. What's the difference now?"

Had she not been resting on tenterhooks, Hermione might have guffawed at the man who was the epitome of rigid, telling her that she needed to relax.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"What's wrong little lioness? You're bold enough to tell me what you want but not bold enough to take control of your own pleasure. Such a contradiction."

Hermione shivered at the lascivious undertones in his deep voice. All the while Severus was speaking, his lips were brushing across the side of her neck.

"Wet your fingers," he told her.

"How?"

"You've got a mouth, haven't you?"

Hermione felt unsure about his words but did so anyway, using her saliva to moisten her pointer and middle finger. She'd never tasted her own essence before and decided that it wasn't unpleasant.

Moving her hand back to her now slightly throbbing sex, she found that her fingers glided much more easily over her clit. Her body briefly shuddered at the sensation, causing Severus to chuckle.

"Better?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"I can still feel the tension in your body," he said, wrapping his left arm around Hermione's torso and pulling her back. "Relax. Let your weight fall on me."

"I'm too-"

"If you say 'heavy', I'm going to pick you up like a rucksack - which is the same amount you weigh - and toss you across the room." With that he tugged on her again, feeling her body sink back into his.

Using his right hand Severus guided Hermione's head to fall back on his chest. "Are you comfortable?"

Once she nodded in affirmation, he slid his right hand to come down over Hermione's. "Relax your hand," he said, gently grasping her wrist. "Your fingers as well; pretend that your limbs are weightless."

Severus directed Hermione's hand to gently graze over her folds, his nimble fingers easily guiding hers into a gentle rhythm over her clit.

Gasping at the acute sensation, she realized that the slow, teasing strokes elicited a stronger response from her body compared to her previous rushed ministrations.

"What else am I supposed to be doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"You can visualize something that excites you if you like," Severus offered, moving his hand from Hermione's and placing it atop her thigh. "But there's no need to over think this. Just keep moving your hand like I showed you."

Although the memory of Severus free-handedly bringing her to climax was enough to send her pulse racing, Hermione didn't need to utilize it. The feel of being cradled between his legs, her back against his warm chest with his arms around her body was good enough.

The feel of her slick fingertips caressing the hood of her clit wasn't as intense as the buildup of her first climax, but still left her on edge wanting more.

Feeling the area beginning to dry, she slid her finger down, surprised to feel copious amounts of her juices trickling down between the lips.

Hermione could feel the pulsing at her core steadily increasing. Her thighs were becoming more rigid against Severus' as she panted heavily with her impending release.

His erection was pressing insistently into her behind, Hermione unerringly nudging against it whenever she moved.

Unable to keep her body from tensing slightly, Hermione moved her fingers a bit more rapidly, feeling the familiar clenching in the pit of her stomach.

Severus took that opportunity to lightly sink his teeth into the soft juncture of Hermione's neck, and it was enough to instantly send her over the edge. His name spilled from her lips in a shrill cry, the fingers on her left hand digging into his thigh as she came apart in his arms.

Hermione's right arm soon fell slack, her slightly trembling body now languid against his.

"I finally did it," she murmured in disbelief, her chest still heaving.

"If I were grading you, you would have certainly received an Outstanding," Severus replied, shifting Hermione onto her side.

He was grateful that she was less than observant at the moment, else she would have noticed that he no longer sported a massive erection.

Severus was no frotteur; he'd always preferred hands on contact to get himself off. But between a long bout of celibacy, Hermione moaning out his name, and her soft bottom rocking in the most exquisite manner against the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, he'd erupted like a novice lad. After hastily using a nonverbal spell to dry his pajama bottoms, he pulled Hermione back against him.

Hermione's nightgown was still bunched up around her waist, but she was too relaxed to bother pushing it back into place. Yawning broadly, she draped one leg over Severus and closed her eyes.

Hermione didn't stir until it was nearly dawn, when Severus pressed his lips to her forehead before using the Floo to go back to his own room.

It was Monday morning and already Severus was working up a migraine. He hadn't gotten the chance to take one sip of the strongly brewed cup of Darjeeling on his desk before McGonagall bustled into his office, claiming that their DADA professor had packed his bags and was already halfway across the school grounds.

"I'm sure at this point it's senseless to tell you that I'd foreseen this happening," she commented dryly.

Severus shot McGonagall a scathing glance, remembering their conversation before the start of term. It hadn't mattered that the war was over; the DADA post was still a difficult one to fill. It had been sheer lucky that he was able to find a professor willing to stand in on such short notice.

"That's because your suggestion was ludicrous, Minerva! My days in the classroom are no more, and I have every intention on keeping it as such."

"Yes, but you would have fared far better than that wizened old coot! I implored you not to hire him but you're stubborn now as you were at eleven years old."

Professor Digsbywall was an ex-Auror, a wizard that Severus was familiar with only on a professional level. He'd gone into retirement shortly after Voldemort's first reign, yet begrudgingly accepted the temporary post at Hogwarts when asked by the headmaster.

McGonagall had taken one look at the man and likened him to Professor Slughorn. To her dismay the two had gotten along sportingly, more interested in aged firewhiskey and leisurely afternoons than classrooms and teaching.

It was hoped that he would at least complete the term, but apparently it was too much to ask, as he'd left that morning on short notice.

"More like no notice," Severus grumbled. "Since you know everything, Deputy Headmistress, perhaps you'd like to find his replacement."

"I'll have one by the end of the week."

Severus finally managed a sip of his tea before it grew cold and tasteless. "I suppose I'll be teaching classes within the hour."

"I assure you, it will be as if you've never stopped teaching," McGonagall wryly offered, peering down at Severus through her spectacles.

Ginny was the first one to arrive to her Potions class at eleven that morning.

"Blimey, Hermione! Why didn't you tell me Snape was teaching DADA now?" she blurted out.

Hermione had been sorting ingredients for the class and turned around when she heard her friend.

"What?" she asked.

"Yeah, we walked in and there he was, black robes and looking ornery as ever. What happened to that nice, little old man?"

"I have no idea, but I'll ask McGonagall when I see her."

"Damn, and I was just beginning to enjoy the free period. It was like one anyway. The man would drone on about his days as an Auror, and his stories were mostly interesting. I don't think there was much he could have taught us about defending ourselves what with Harry's class and all, but still."

"Why? Was Professor Snape hard on the students?" Hermione asked.

"No more than usual. If it makes any sense, he was still the same old Professor Snape from Potions. He shut the curtains over the windows, made us open our texts and had us copy down things as he prattled them off at a rapid speed. Nothing new."

Hermione choked back a laugh, remembering that he'd done the same thing the day he had taken over Lupin's class.

"Well, as long as he didn't give you detention for answering questions correctly - mind you, questions that he's asked - then consider it a pleasant day."

"Yes well…" Ginny trailed off, her eyes turning towards the classroom door as students started filing in. "We'll talk later," she continued, moving to take her seat.

"So should I refer to you as Professor or Headmaster?" Hermione asked Severus later that evening when they were in his sitting room.

"Although silence wasn't a given option, perhaps you should consider it," he drawled in a less than biting tone.

Hermione smirked, looking back down at the essays she was correcting.

"Digsbywall, the dosser. He packed his things and skived off during breakfast. McGonagall is going to find his replacement. I hope he's not a bleeding idiot like Lockhart."

"That idiot, he knew bugger all about the Dark Arts, or anything else for that matter," Hermione commented, frowning at the illegible handwriting on the parchment before her.

"Yet, you never failed to swoon whenever you came in close proximity of the man."

"If it's any consolation, we all enjoyed watching you handing him his arse at dueling. But for goodness sake, I was twelve years old! And if it hadn't escaped your notice, I wasn't the only unimpressionable witch; even Mrs. Weasley found him attractive.

Severus grunted in disgust, his attention focused at his book yet his eyes failing to move.

"Lockhart was attractive in a too shiny sort of way. now that I'm thinking about it. There's something disturbing about a man that glamours his hair color. Surely he's a regular of Madam Primpernelle."

Hermione then furtively shifted her head, peeking up at Severus through her hair.

"Although, I myself rather fancy dark-haired wizards."

"Perhaps I should warn Flitwick that he'll be receiving your owl."

"Did I forget to mention the part about dark-haired wizards having a surly disposition? The more ornery the better."

"Miss Granger, I believe you have essays to finish correcting."

"I'm nearly done," she replied lightly, standing up and walking over to the small table holding a tea tray. Pouring two cups, she lightly sweetened hers to taste and left Severus' plain, the way he preferred. Handing him the tea, she sat down and took a sip.

"I was remiss in another fact. Dark haired wizards that take their tea plain. Perhaps it means they have a more discriminating palate?"

"Hermione, either drink your tea, shut your mouth and correct your essays, or get out."

Quietly laughing to herself, Hermione took another sip and set her cup down. Severus had been threatening to kick her out of his office since she'd begun visiting him in the evenings. Not once had he followed through on his words.

"All right. I'll be quiet," she said.

"The act of actually doing so doesn't connote you telling me. All it means is that you're still talking."

Her shoulders still shaking with laughter, Hermione carried on with her work while the two sat in comfortable silence.
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Broken Dreams