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Persistent Hunger	By : hot_stuff11 Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 5283 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Anything familiar is the exclusive property of JKR; I am making no money from this fic.

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A/N: This story has adult themes, guys. Whatever you don't recognize, I own, but that's not going to be much, and JKR is the genius, not me. I'll try to update once a week between frantic studying as I finish my undergrad degree. Cheers!

Professor Severus Snape was irritated beyond belief. Whenever the hunger came over him during a lecture, it was distracting, not to mention downright frustrating.

"Be very careful of your stirring method, as a failure to complete the correct number of shallow, counterclockwise turns will have an adverse effect upon the completed potion, weakening its abilities."

Long practice enabled him to school his features into their usual impassivity and his voice into its usual silky drawl, despite his considerable discomfort. His seventh year students knew him well enough by now, however, to be aware of a subtle increase in the usual amount of malice which perpetually emanated from his person in waves, and shrank from him as he stalked around the classroom.

He really wished that the little blonde twit in the back row wouldn't charm her skirts so short. It was damned irritating, and he felt his trousers tighten with the inevitable side effect of his condition. He was hard put to it to feel remorse over his reaction to a seventeen year old student who exposed herself deliberately. The expanse of creamy thigh revealed by the open flaps of her robes was simply inappropriate, and he was only a man, after all. She was hardly the only female Hogwarts student to show up for his classes with sexed up regulation apparel. He knew teenaged girls were strange beings, for he had been young once, despite persistent and strenuous assessments to the contrary among the majority of the student body, but he also had the accurate self-awareness that only comes with maturity, and knew he had grown into the unfortunate nose and gangly height of his school years. While he was far from the handsomest man in the world, neither did he believe himself incapable of inspiring adolescent crushes. For some girls, tall and dark was enough, and at 6'4", with a full head of black hair, he certainly had that covered.

But he really needed her to look less...edible if he was to finish his lecture.

"Miss Ambrosio!" he barked suddenly, cutting into his smooth educational monologue and causing most of his students to jump about six inches off their seats. Only those with nerves perpetually hardened by his abrasive personality managed to avoid being airborne.

She looked up at him, actually meeting his flint-hard stare.

"Ten points from Slytherin, Miss Ambrosio, for your indecent attire," he growled, ignoring the soft rustling amongst the Slytherins, who could hardly believe that their Head of House had just docked points from one of their own.

"If you persist in coming to class in a state of undress, I shall be forced to take more drastic action."

"Like what, professor?" the chit rejoined.

Actual gasps could now be heard, particularly from the Gryffindors on the other side of the room, who began visibly preparing themselves for nuclear fallout. Although he had to conceal shock at her tart response, Snape didn't bellow. That wasn't his style anyway, and his idiot students should know that by now. He merely swept over to her desk, black robes floating and then settling around his booted feet. Bracing his palms on the rough wood surface, he leaned over her threateningly.

"Don't test me, girl," he hissed at her. "I have no time for your nonsense."

Her scent wafted to his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply, suppressing a pleasurable shudder. Leaning over her had been a mistake. In addition to the problem with the skirt, she had also modified her school shirt, and the twin mounds of her breasts strained at the unbuttoned placket.

"What do you have time for, professor?" she asked, placing unmistakable emphasis on the do.

This time Snape almost couldn't hide his disbelief at her question. Recovering quickly, however, he bent even closer, letting his eyes rake coldly over her.

"You don't interest me, Ambrosio," he told her harshly, ignoring his body's vigorous disagreement. "Cover yourself before I make it twenty points."

Apparently, he had covered his reaction well. Stung, she wandlessly loosened her shirt and lengthened her skirt, and he was left with conflicting feelings of admiration that she was able to manage such a spell without her wand, and aggravation at the fact that the delectable view to which he had been treated for the better part of the last hour was now gone.

Suppressing the grumbling irritation which was now rising in waves, he made his way back to the front of the classroom. She wasn't looking at him now. Instead, she had her head bent over her parchment and books, in marked contrast to her positively lascivious behavior of the past few minutes. He was relieved to note that the period was coming to a close, and after surveying the efforts of his students, he saw that it was none too soon. While he had been...occupied with Miss Ambrosio, Mr. Longbottom had melted his cauldron and most of his shoes, through which knobbly socks were now peeking, and Miss Bulstrode appeared to have inadvertently ingested some of her potion via the fumes. She was now showing definite effects of the Halitosis Potion, as her classmates were leaning desperately away from her, and some were retching slightly in their throats.

The clock chimed the hour, and the class stood as one, frantically gathering their things in an effort to leave as quickly as possible.

"I didn't give you leave to depart." Somehow, as it always did, his dark voice penetrated the chaos of the room as effectively as if he had shouted, and the students instantly subsided into their seats.

"I want two rolls of parchment for next class, on the importance of taking proper precautions when handling potions with membrane-permeable offgassing. Class dismissed."

They didn't need to be told twice, and Snape sighed with relief when the door to the dungeons at last clanged shut. He was just about to reach in his desk drawer for a drink, when the long years as a spy kicked in, and he looked up to see Miss Ambrosio still at her desk.

He could feel a headache coming on.

"Yes?" he growled irritably, drawing out the s for at least five seconds. At least he was sitting down now. Were she ever to see the tent in his trousers, she would be unstoppable in her pursuit. When she still had not answered, after a long minute during which his quill scratching on parchment was the only sound in the room, he sighed heavily.

"Miss Ambrosio, get out."

He looked up to find her standing, her small hands playing with the buttons of her shirt. He knew very well what she wanted, and also knew that for all her bravado in class that afternoon, she didn't have the nerve to proposition him.

"Do not make me repeat myself," he hissed warningly. Standing suddenly, he towered over her, dark and menacing, and was gratified to see her step slowly backwards to the door. She appeared to be having an inner battle with her desire and her fear, and he could almost see the moment that fear won. His glittering dark eyes followed her shapely backside out the door, and he licked his lips.

At last, he reached for the fine crystal goblet hidden in his desk and poured himself a generous measure. Immediately, he felt his headache begin to recede, and he leant back in his chair, intending merely to rest his eyes a bit. Within moments, however, he was asleep.

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Persistent Hunger